
^ELIX MORRIS'S 



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REMINISCENCES 



BY 



FELIX MORRIS. 
// 



' ' nothing extenuate, 

Nor set down aught in malice." 

Othello. 



NEW YORK : 

INTERNATIONAL TELEGRAM COMPANY. 






DEDICATION. 



I affectionately dedicate this little work 
to the Old Actors of our profession, those 
who commenced, as I did, at the very bottom 
of the ladder — veterans, who have borne the 
heat and brunt of the battle for many a year, 
and who now find themselves elbowed away, 
pushed aside in the struggle and almost for- 
gotten. 

In remembrance of the kindness, good-will 
and loyalty of the past, 

I subscribe myself, 

Their Friend, 




New York, 
u. s. A. 



PREFACE. 



The honor of prefacing this dainty 
volume has been allotted to me. It is 
the modest record of a modest toiler, the 
fruit of whose toil is beginning to show its 
golden-ripe side. 

Felix Morris long ago consecrated his 
life to art. The road by which he 
reached his present eminence, in the 
judgment of the "judicious few/' and in 
the admiration of the enthusiastic many, 
was not a primrose path. Often his feet 
have smitten the cruel stones ; and pang 
instead of pleasure, poverty instead of 
prosperity, long stalked at his side and 
mocked his effort. But never has Hope 
forsaken him or turned away her face. 



VI 

Like the children in one of the pretty 
fancies of a great master of the human 
heart, he sees the star always shining. 
Failure does not dismay him. He learns 
wisdom from rebuff, and turns to Nature 
in the sure confidence that if he can but 
reproduce one of her unnumbered forms 
with a fair measure of fidelity, art will 
then have its advancement and labor its 
reward. 

These reminiscences are a simple and 
direct recital of a career of unintermitting 
struggle, of many defeats, of few cheering 
victories, of invincible patience, of tireless 
industry and of abiding faith in ideals. 
Necessarily they are personal ; and while 
they do not compass a complete autobiog- 
raphy, they nevertheless give us large 
glimpses of the life of a player who has 



Vll 



fixed what appears as an enduring impress 
upon the stage of his time. Incidentally, 
they illustrate the movement in theatrical 
art, and they acquaint us with many inside 
facts in theatrical history. The familiar 
style in which they are written makes 
them pleasant reading. To us who have 
enjoyed personal association with the 
author of them, they come as a direct 
message — hearty, humorous, sincere; free 
from offensive egotism and characteristic 
of the man. In no respect does the 
sweet gentleness of his nature appear 
more fair than in his acknowledged and 
obvious dependence upon the beloved 
companion who has long been his discreet 
counselor and alert guide. 

Geo. P. Goodale. 
Detroit, Nov. 19, 1892. 



VI 

Like the children in one of the pretty 
fancies of a great master of the human 
heart, he sees the star always shining. 
Failure does not dismay him. He learns 
wisdom from rebuff, and turns to Nature 
in the sure confidence that if he can but 
reproduce one of her unnumbered forms 
with a fair measure of fidelity, art will 
then have its advancement and labor its 
reward. 

These reminiscences are a simple and 
direct recital of a career of unintermitting 
struggle, of many defeats, of few cheering 
victories, of invincible patience, of tireless 
industry and of abiding faith in ideals. 
Necessarily they are personal ; and while 
they do not compass a complete autobiog- 
raphy, they nevertheless give us large 
glimpses of the life of a player who has 



Vll 

fixed what appears as an enduring impress 
upon the stage of his time. Incidentally, 
they illustrate the movement in theatrical 
art, and they acquaint us with many inside 
facts in theatrical history. The familiar 
style in which they are written makes 
them pleasant reading. To us who have 
enjoyed personal association with the 
author of them, they come as a direct 
message — hearty, humorous, sincere; free 
from offensive egotism and characteristic 
of the man. In no respect does the 
sweet gentleness of his nature appear 
more fair than in his acknowledged and 
obvious dependence upon the beloved 
companion who has long been his discreet 
counselor and alert guide. 

Geo. P. Goodale. 
Detroit, Nov. 19, 1892. 




FELIX MORRIS. 



FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 
I. 

IT is really remarkable how many re- 
cruits the stage has obtained, of late 
years, from the medical profession. The 
embryo doctor — the medical student, or 
"Sawbones," as Sam Weller called him — 
is often an erratic creature, who devotes 
himself with flaming enthusiasm to any 
form of amusement to the almost certain 
neglect of his professional studies. At 
least, such was my own case, in my stu- 
dent days, at Guy's Hospital, London. 
A victim of the amateur theatrical craze — 
carried away by the mild success of my 



IO FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

efforts, which were magnified into glorious 
triumphs by my fellows — I determined to 
abandon physic for sock and buskin, and, 
to the intense disappointment of those 
who had a right to expect better things ot 
me, I started for the United States, with 
very little money in my pocket, but forti- 
fied with a supply of determination and 
ambition that I had never displayed in 
any previous undertaking. 

In my optimistic eyes my future was 
assured, for of worldly wisdom I had 
none and of practical common sense I re- 
joiced in the possession of a very short 
allowance. Thus equipped, I set out to 
revolutionize the stage. I would court 
the Tragic Muse, I thought, and modern- 
ize the art. Granted, my face and figure 
were not of the romantic mould, but what 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. II 

of that ? Little David Garrick had con- 
quered such trivial deficiencies, and I 
would do likewise, I said. America ! 
what a busy world it seemed ; how the 
rush of life dazed me; how powerless I 
felt — an absolute stranger without even an 
introduction. What to do or where to 
turn were serious questions, and, standing 
face to face with stern reality, how my 
dreams vanished. The battle of life was 
all before me — grim, silent and menacing. 
I had no one to advise me, and my ex- 
chequer was steadily diminishing. There 
would be no chance for me in a great 
metropolis where competition was so much 
keener than in a smaller city ; and thus 
reasoning I hit upon Albany as my field 
of action. I could reach my destination 
at a very slight outlay ; a ticket on the 



12 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

night boat would do very well ; and thus 
fate, fortune, destiny, what you will, 
brought me to the old Knickerbocker 
City. 

I shall never forget my first journey in 
the New World. It was a June night, 
and I rapturously viewed the lovely scen- 
ery along the Hudson, and it entranced 
me. Indeed, its splendor made me quite 
forget the discomfort of a deck passage. 
I sat up all night watching the glorious 
scene, hallowed and softened in the gor- 
geous moonlight. It inspired and en- 
couraged me, for youth is ever hopeful, 
and such a fair land, I told myself, would 
treat a stranger kindly. Here I could 
start afresh, carve out my own career and 
prove myself worth something after all. 
Arrived in Albany I discovered that the 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 1 3 

theatrical season had closed. For at least 
two months nothing would be done ; so I 
wrote to the stage manager of the leading 
theater soliciting an interview, which he 
kindly granted. Desperation gave me 
courage, and I deluged him with a torrent 
of enthusiasm. He listened patiently and 
with ill-concealed amusement. His ad- 
vice was excellent. 

"Choose any other career," said he. 
"Education opens -the way to success in 
any other pursuit, in this country." 

"Why not in the theatrical business, 
then ? " I asked. 

" Uncertainties too great; competition 
too keen ; success generally impossible, " 
he rejoined sententiously. 

My continued arguments to the end 
that the burning cause of tragedy might 



1 4 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

unknowingly possess in me a new Kean 
or Macready, drew forth the following 
never-to-be forgotten remark : 

"A fellow with such a mug as yours 
play tragedy ? Bosh ! No, sir, if you go 
into this business you may in fourteen or 
fifteen years be receiving $15 per week, 
and you'll be pretty doggoned lucky if 
you do that ! " I have to acknowledge 
his foresight with regard to tragedy, 
and I endorse his reference to the "mug," 
as he termed it, but in the matter of salary 
his prophecy was not verified ; for at the 
expiration of fourteen years I found my- 
self back in London playing the Scotch 
Professor with an attendant compensation 
of one hundred and fifty dollars per week. 

My interview with the Albany manager 
ended without any definite understanding. 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. I 5 

He was impressionable and very kindly 
promised to do what he could for me. 
At the same time expenses had to be con- 
sidered, and after some little difficulty I 
secured a temporary situation in a drug 
store, the compounding of medicines 
having formed a part of my education in 
the old country. In this capacity I got 
along very well, and was enabled to pay 
my own way for the first time in my life. 
My spare time was devoted to the study 
of legitimate parts, and in a very roomy 
attic I howled through Richelieu, mur- 
dered Hamlet, and caricatured Claude 
Melnotte to my heart's content and to 
the amazement of my fellow boarders. 
At length patience was rewarded, a 
letter from the stage manager in answer 
to my numerous reminders of his 



1 6 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

promise bringing me the glad news that 
.1 could go into the box-office of the 
little theater on Division street, and if an 
opportunity were presented I should be 
entrusted with a small part on the stage. 
This was enough, and in a very short 
time I found myself busily engaged in 
box-office work, content to drudge in the 
present, so long as the future held in store 
the fruition of my rosy dreams. I was 
exceeding verdant at first, of course, 
and many were the ingenious devices of 
the enterprising small boy to gain admis- 
sion to the theater on nominal terms. I 
had charge of the gallery sale of tickets, 
and bogus shin plasters and rolls of neatly 
whittled brick with a cent at each end 
were all too artistic for detection by my 
trustful eye, and losses from my lack of 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. IJ 

cleverness in detecting frauds of this de- 
scription frequently had to be made good 
out of my very small salary. Experience 
teaches, however, and I soon put an end to 
these little pleasantries. I really became so 
useful that I stood in my own light, my 
manager displaying no anxiety to give me 
the opportunity I so ardently desired. But 
nothing is truer than that everything 
comes to him who waits. Actors were 
erratic in those days, and sudden indispo- 
sitions were not uncommon. Thus it 
happened that as I was about to close the 
box-office one afternoon, the stage man- 
ager came to me and, in rather a mysteri- 
ous manner, said : 

''Felix, you had better get up in this 
part, as you'll have to go on for it to- 
night ! " 



1 8 FELIX morris's reminiscencfs. 

"To-night," I gasped, "how about re- 
hearsal ? " 

"Come back with me on the stage and 
I'll go through the part with you," he 
said. 

We groped our way to the stage. I 
could hardly see the lines in the wretched 
light. The stage manager was in a hurry 
to get home, and he brought me on at 
one entrance and took me off at another, 
in the most perplexing manner. This he 
repeated through the various stages of the 
play, until my head began to swim, and 
then he hurried off to supper, saying it 
would be all right at night. 

I rushed home and did the best I could 
under the circumstances. Memory seemed 
to have forsaken me, but I finally com- 
posed myself and got back to the theater 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. IQ 

fairly well prepared for the ordeal. But 
everything was against me. Instead of 
being allowed to go quietly to a dressing- 
room and make deliberate preparations I 
was compelled to sell my gallery tickets as 
usual, and it was not until five minutes 
before the curtain went up that I was re- 
leased. I rushed down to the dressing- 
room in mad haste and speechless with 
excitement. The part I had to play was 
that of a detective whose duty it was to 
arrest the villain of the piece, and to guard 
me against resistance at the villain's hands 
I was escorted by two military representa- 
tives of the British Army — in reality two 
very sad-looking supers, in dirty, red coats 
and gaiters and carrying old-fashioned 
muskets. The overture was finished in 
an inconceivably short space of time, and 



20 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

I found myself standing with my escort, 
in an upper entrance waiting for my cue. 

Thoughts of home, of the unexpected 
opportunity, of all that I had gone through 
for this one supreme moment, brought a 
big lump into my throat. I was rudely 
awakened, however, by an unexpected dig 
in the back. This was a friendly reminder 
that my cue had come and a roll of the 
drum in the orchestra announced our 
approach. I boldly sallied forth, fol- 
lowed by my escort. 

* * * * Flash-bang-crash — 
where am I ? Is the whole building on 
fire ? Jets of light surround me, the 
stage heaves again ; am I in heaven or the 
other place ? Thunders of applause 
from the boys in front of the house cut 
off my last glimmer of reason. I float 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 21 

down to the extreme R. cor. and clap 
the defiant villain on the back. With a 
snarl and an imprecation he turns upon 
me. Mental and physical paralysis follow ; 
utterance is beyond me. I stand and gasp 
at him — chained to the spot in convulsive 
spasms. 

The line I should have spoken — " Ro- 
land Hetherington, I arrest you" — was 
whispered and muttered and finally shouted 
by every person on the stage, except my- 
self. The audience after a while took in 
the situation, and fairly screamed with 
laughter. 

"Take him off, take him off," was 
shouted from behind the scenes, and I was 
summarily led off by my military escort, 
the bold, bad man, who should have 
resisted arrest in a most spirited manner, 



22 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES'. 

having to follow in our wake in the! 
meekest and most lamb-like way imagin- 
able. Thus did my golden apples turn to 
ashes and thus ended my first professional 
appearance on the stage. 

I was soon recalled to the reality of 
affairs by the voice of my manager, who 
in emphatic language told me to get into 
the box-office and never show my nose on 
his stage again. I expostulated, but to 
no purpose, and finally settled matters by 
sending in my resignation, which was 
promptly accepted. My kind friend, Wal- 
ter Keeble, the stage manager, tried to 
dissuade me, but without avail. He 
pathetically warned me of the rigors of 
winter, predicting difficulties and hard- 
ships ahead, if I persisted in my deter- 
mination. Poor Walter Keeble has long 



FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 2$ 

since passed away. A kind heart was his 
and he was a good actor, and a consider- 
ate man and a true friend. I gladly add 
my small tribute to his memory. 

II. 

In spite of friendly advice I stuck to 
my determination and at the end of the 
week severed my connection with the 
Division street theater. After settling up 
all indebtedness I had a balance on hand 
of about eight dollars. With this munifi- 
cent sum I determined to tempt fortune 
again. It was at the end of October and 
early winter was approaching. In quitting 
Albany I took the precaution of leaving 
behind me my dress suit, which afterward 
proved of great service to me. In fact, 
that dress suit played a conspicuous part 



24 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

in my varying fortunes later on. I went 
away from Albany with more hope, per- 
haps, than circumstances justified and 
made New York my objective point. 

I felt that my slight experience in the- 
atrical business would help me there and 
enable me in some way or another to 
carry out my cherished hopes. I man- 
aged my little capital as carefully as pos- 
sible, allowing myself fifty cents a day to 
cover all expenses. I sought out the 
theatrical agencies in New York and was 
dismayed at the crowds of applicants. 
I timidly approached the lairs of the 
theatrical lions and was dismissed before I 
had even stated my case. This occurred 
again and again until I realized the abso- 
lute hopelessness of my position. Slowly 
I became convinced that I must turn to 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 25 

something else. I would apply for a situ- 
ation in some business house — an insur- 
ance or a lawyer's office — anywhere, in 
fact. There would be, surely, no diffi- 
culty, I argued, in the matter, with my 
knowledge of French and German. 

Filled with these ideas I would sally 
forth, bent upon securing something to do 
and then hesitate, doubtful of my recep- 
tion. I would linger for an hour on the 
threshold of some business house and at 
last, in sheer desperation, sneak in and in 
quavering tones ask if there were a vacancy 
in the establishment, or timidly state that 
I was looking for a situation. I was in- 
variably dismissed with scant courtesy and 
would turn away heart-broken and de- 
jected. Then I would wander down to 
the ocean steamer piers with the idea 



26 FELIX MORRIS^ REMINISCENCES. 

of working my passage home. But I 
shrank from the notion of returning to 
England a defeated man and something 
would dissuade me. My shame of defeat 
— a-never-say-die sort of feeling — would 
pull me through and another wretched 
day would glide by. To-morrow, no mat- 
ter how bright it seemed to-day, brought 
forth the same bitter experience, until my 
money was all gone, in spite of the most 
economical management. My fare for 
the last three days of my struggle con- 
sisted of a roll of bread and an apple for 
breakfast, and, by way of variety, an 
apple and a roll of bread for supper. 

I mention these facts, painful though 
they be, that they may serve as encourage- 
ment to any and every struggler in life's 
battle. The hardships I survived were, as 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 2J 

I view them now, to a great degree self- 
imposed. If I had possessed one scrap 
of the self-reliance and push of the Amer- 
ican boy I would have made known my 
position and would have met with that 
kindness and assistance which Americans 
are ever ready to extend to those who need 
them. A placard finally caught my eye, as 
I strolled along the river front. It read : 
" Wanted, green hands for a whaling 
voyage." I ascended a rickety flight of 
stairs and in a few moments had signed 
articles for a four years' cruise in the 
Pacific ocean. That night I was one of 
a number of men who were hurried off by 
train to New Bedford. 

I realized the mistake I had made long 
before our destination was reached, and 
made my plans accordingly. The associ- 



2 8 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

ations were too dreadful for words, and, an 
opportunity offering, I ran away from the 
whaler and walked from New Bedford to 
Boston, leaving my portmanteau behind 
me. This was a great loss, as it con- 
tained all my clothes, with the exception 
of the sailor's suit in which I was dressed 
and in which I made my first appearance 
in Boston. I need not dwell upon my 
experiences in that city. They were hard 
indeed, but I put on a brave front and 
earned my daily bread by the sweat of my 
face. 

I found employment in an iron foundry 
and went through my daily labor to the 
satisfaction of my foreman and I secured 
the good will of my fellow-laborers. The 
strain was tremendous, however. After 
two months of it Nature rebelled, and 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 2Q 

I became ill — rheumatic fever having taken 
advantage of the situation. I was taken to 
the hospital and for eight weeks hovered 
between life and death. In the meantime 
my kind hearted Irish landlady, rummag- 
ing among my papers during my illness, 
discovered that I had friends in England, 
who were speedily communicated with and 
assistance was thus elicited. Simultane- 
ously great inducements were held out to 
me if I would give up my vagabond ways 
and return to my native land. But I de- 
clined and my recovery found me more 
determined than ever to work out my own 
salvation. 

Through an advertisement which I an- 
swered, I secured a situation once more, 
in a drug store. Although greatly weak- 
ened by my long illness, a sufficient meas- 



30 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

ure of success attended my second season 
as a drug clerk to warrant my employer 
in exhausting all arguments at his com- 
mand to persuade me to give up my silly 
stage notions, but all to no purpose, the 
one aim and object of my life being to 
do what I had set out to do. So I again 
communicated with my kind friend Wal- 
ter Keeble, who had undertaken the man- 
agement of the Division street theater in 
the meantime, and in reply to my letter 
he offered me the position of head super, 
as it were, without the promise of any 
parts. 

I was simply to lead the shouts, take 
part in any pageant, and make myself 
generally useful, and for this he would 
pay me $5 per week. He thought in such 
a position I would overcome my extreme 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. $1 

nervousness and if I had anything in me 
it would manifest itself. I was beside 
myself with joy at the brilliancy of my 
new prospects, and in the fulness of time 
I found myself once more in Albany and 
' ' eager for the fray. " 

It was certainly a great advantage to 
me to be under the immediate direction 
of a most painstaking and excellent stage 
manager in the person of Charles Waverly, 
a man of great experience, who would 
spend hours with us in rehearsing some 
fearful stage struggle. He would wrestle 
and tug and strain until we all panted for 
breath and considering our stupidity he 
was wonderfully patient and abnormally 
hopeful. Broadsword combats were a 
weakness of his, and the way in which we 
slashed and cut at one another and made 



32 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

the sparks fly was a caution. Dear Wav- 
erly has joined the vast majority, but I 
never think of him without feelings of 
gratitude ; for he taught me the ground- 
work of my business. His instincts were 
always artistic, and his skill in make-up 
and stage craft was remarkable. 

I worked with enthusiasm and was in- 
variably in the theater an hour and a half 
before the curtain went up. I was deter- 
mined to possess the virtue of being 
prompt, at least. Gradually I was as- 
signed the responsible role of stage police- 
man, a part I filled without evoking the 
usual sarcasm from the gallery. The boys 
treated me with the most kindly respect. 
Why they were so considerate I don't 
know to this day ; for I was certainly an 
undersized representative of law and order. 



FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 33 

I took great pains with my uniform, al- 
ways wore a cap that fitted me and my 
white cotton gloves were scrupulously 
clean, while my boots were polished most 
extravagantly. I was entrusted, after a 
time, with the part of a "snide" lawyer 
in some little farce, and secured the first 
legitimate laughter I had ever evoked on 
the professional stage. It was a very 
short part, but it went well, and my ever- 
watchful stage manager was pleased. I 
felt emboldened by his encouragement 
and improved even this slight opportunity 
to urge my preference for tragedy. He 
roared with laughter, but noting the 
pained expression on my face he said : 
"Well, never mind. I'll see what I can 
do for you. " 

We used to conclude our performances 



34 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

on Saturday night with some blood-curd- 
ling melodrama or nautical piece. Charles 
Waverly was very fond of heroic stage 
sailors, and he cast the piece — the "Gipsy 
Farmer " — and to the amazement of every- 
body and the chagrin of my rival utility 
men, he gave me the part of the Gypsy 
Farmer, a sort of heavy leading part. I 
was in a seventh Heaven, and gracious ! 
how I worked at my part; how I toiled 
in my very small hall bedroom trying ef- 
fects before a looking-glass that was smaller 
than a dinner plate, all unabashed by the 
comments of my fellow actors, some of 
whom suggested that I should play the 
Farmer in a hauberk. The proper cos- 
tume was modern, of course. 

We rehearsed the piece most carefully ; 
my enthusiasm was boundless ; the dim- 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 35 

cullies were overcome and the eventful 
night arrived. On I dashed for my first 
scene, which ended somewhat disappoint- 
ingly, for a still small voice from the gal- 
lery exclaimed, "Oh, cheese it," and the 
audience tittered. Nothing daunted, how- 
ever, I waited for my great scene, as I 
thought it. I had to rush on again, and 
with a heavy cowhide pretend to strike 
the juvenile man who was defending the 
heroine from the assault of some of my 
confederates. Carried away by excitement 
1 brought the heavy whip down with all 
my might upon the defenceless head of 
the juvenile man who, with a groan, sank 
to the stage exclaiming, " Good God, I'm 
murdered ! " 

It was some time before confidence and 
harmony were restored, and the accident 



36 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

did not advance my tragic aspirations. 
And so I blundered on, crushed by many 
failures, only to rise and try again. In the 
meantime, as a sort of side issue, I made 
two most careful character studies ; one 
of a negro barber, the other of an Italian 
peanut vender. The colored barber had 
the most delicious southern dialect and a 
laugh that would have been a fortune to a 
minstrel performer. After much patient 
effort I acquired both the dialect and the 
laugh with the gratifying result that I be- 
came the recognized nigger of the theater. 
I also used my intimacy with the Italian 
gentleman as a means to his duplication 
on the stage, and to very good purpose. 

Before the end of our season I had 
quite a little reputation and the gallery 
boys were pleased to endorse me in my 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. tf 

small character efforts, but no encourage- 
ment came to me in the line of parts in 
which I really wanted to excel. There- 
fore these little successes, though sweet, 
were not without a tinge of acidity, for I 
was winning my way simply by getting as 
far as possible from my long-cherished 
ideals. Later in my life, when my hopes 
of becoming a great tragedian had crum- 
bled into dust and I was becoming recon- 
ciled to the public's notion that I belonged 
to comedy, I happened upon a story of 
Thackeray, in which the writer said that 
it was the dream of the author of "Vanity 
Fair " to be regarded as a great cross- 
country rider. Even his success in win- 
ning one of the highest places in English 
literature, the narrator said, came to 
Thackeray minus the bloom, for simulta- 



38 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

neously with one of his greatest literary 
triumphs came to his ears the frankly ex- 
pressed opinion by a friend, that of all the 
absurd objects in England nothing could 
possibly be more ridiculous than Thacke- 
ray's appearance when mounted. I never 
heard of anything that came home to me 
with more striking force. 

People in the old Knickerbocker city 
were kind to me. The story of my vicis- 
situdes had got about among them and 
they maintained that I had shown a genu- 
ine article of courage in my efforts to be 
an actor. They had never forgotten me, 
and to this day receive me in the kindest 
manner and look upon me as an Albany 
boy. At the end of my first season I real- 
ized that I had only reached the threshold 
of a most difficult achievement, that I had 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 39 

done little more than overcome an extra- 
ordinary nervousness and that even the 
rudiments of my art had not yet been 
acquired. 

But I was hopeful and determined. I 
had paid my way, thank Heaven, and did 
not owe a cent, and I had accomplished 
that on $5 a week. It was a commend- 
able showing, it seemed to me, but now 
came a new dilemma — how was I to get 
through the summer ? I would not run 
in debt, and so when the inspiration came 
at last that I could easily and healthfully 
fill in the time on a farm, on the Helder- 
bergs, and my fancy was fed with the 
sugared supposition that the air would be 
glorious and that the abundance of eggs 
and milk would make me so strong that 
work would be a pastime, I tried it. Re- 



40 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

suit : Air, great ; milk, all sent to town ; 
work, South American slavery. But I 
stuck it out and returned to Albany and 
the theater lean and gaunt, but as hard as 
nails. 

III. 

My farming experience occurred during 
the summer of 1872. Our season opened 
at the Division street theater in the fall, 
and my salary was increased to $8 per 
week. We started in again with great ex- 
pectations, but we were doomed to dis- 
appointment. Walter Keeble's health was 
slowly but surely breaking down, and 
by Christmas he had to relinquish his 
duties. The fatal Bright's disease had de- 
clared itself and he was ordered south 
by his physicians. We all readily volun- 






FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 4 I 

teered for his benefit, which took place at 
Martin's Hall and was a great success. 
We wished him Godspeed with sad hearts, 
and he had our prayers for a restoration 
to health, but after lingering for some 
time he died in Aiken, South Carolina. 

Mr. John Albaugh had become lessee 
and manager of the Opera House, the 
leading theater in Albany, and I and seve- 
ral other members of Mr. Keeble's com- 
pany were fortunate in securing an engage- 
ment with him at the same salaries. In 
this theater the company supported in 
regular rotation all the first-class stars, 
and our work called forth keener and 
more detailed newspaper criticism than 
had been elicited by our efforts in the 
smaller theater. 

The constant change of programme 



42 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

necessitated a frequent change of ward- 
robe, and we poor utility men were often 
driven to our wits' end. The theater 
wardrobe was very limited, we could ill 
afford to hire anything, and I am sure 
often presented in Shakespearean pieces 
the most ludicrous appearance. My pos- 
sessions in the wardrobe line consisted of 
a dress suit — the old original one already 
referred to — a pair of black tights and one 
wig. 

That wig ! shall I ever forget it ? It 
was of the Albino shade of hair and was 
what would be termed a straight wig. By 
an ingenious application of india-ink I 
converted it into a black wig ; or, if the 
occasion called for blonde locks, a liberal 
wash of yellow ochre produced the desired 
shade. Then, for "reverend, grave and 






FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 43 

potent seigniors," white goat's hair stitched 
to the back served the purpose. These 
effects were produced with the utmost 
care. I spent hours in my preparations 
and I never could understand the want 
of appreciation on the part of my fellow 
actors. Their comments seemed strangely 
out of place ; their jokes, at my expense, 
quite uncalled for. I was so in earnest, 
so serious in the responsibility of my work, 
that when hysterics were in order it 
seemed almost inhuman that hilarity 
should be awakened instead, however close 
to the wellspring of laughter may lie the 
fountain of tears. 

Once, when we were supporting E. L. 
Davenport in a round of his masterly por- 
trayals, I was cast for the Doge of Venice. 
Mr. Davenport played' Iago, and Mr. 



44 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

Albaugh Othello. I wore an armhole 
cloak, much too large for me — the only 
thing of the kind to be found in the 
wardrobe— which with my black tights 
with modern slippers, with huge home- 
made rosettes and the wig with goat's hair 
attachment, were the foundation of my 
make-up. I had covered my face with 
what I thought looked the ideal of a 
Venetian beard. On my head I carried a 
papier-mache crown, several sizes too 
large for me ; in my hand I held a trun- 
cheon, and I was seated on what is termed 
a throne chair, on a raised platform, my 
short legs dangling playfully in the air. 
To the right and left of me sat the 
"approved good masters" looking quite 
as fantastic and impossible as myself. 
After the preamble I granted audience to 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 45 

the Moor and on came the procession 
headed by Mr. Davenport and Mr. Al- 
baugh. A snort from Iago disconcerted 
me. 

"Good God! what is that?" inquired 
Iago, soito voce. 

"That's the Doge of Venice," an- 
swered Othello. 

" Gad ! I thought it was the Dog," said 
Iago, and the procession exploded. 

I had spent hours over the part, and 
had worked lovingly upon it. Was it not 
the great master's creation ? Covertly I 
hoped that my rendition would, in a way, 
vindicate my tragic aspirations, and this 
was the result. With the utmost difficulty 
I stammered through a line or two, and 
then, abandoning blank verse, assured 
Brabantio that he would find his son-in- 



46 FELIX morris's reminiscences. 

law much more of a colored gentleman 
than a white man. I scurried off, fol- 
lowed by my wretched retinue, in the 
most undogelike and eccentric manner. 
You can imagine the effect upon the au- 
dience. Was it any wonder the papers 
asserted in the morning, after paying 
glowing critical tributes to the principals, 
that " Felix Morris and the rest of the 
rag tag and bob-tail were simply abomni- 
nable." 

I record, with profound pleasure and 
fond remembrance, the kindly word and 
generous encouragement of Edwin 
Adams. How good he was to us ! We 
utility men^ fairly worshiped him, and 
what a voice he had — so sweet and mel- 
low — and what a Jack Rover (in " Wild 
Oats ") we thought him. I played Lamp, 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 47 

the theatrical manager, in that produc- 
tion, and made a little hit in the part. 
Even the Albany papers, whose target I 
had been so long that I rather looked for 
abuse from them, spoke well of me. Em- 
boldened by Mr. Adams's commendation 
I opened my heart to him and told him 
that I yet hoped to become a tragedian. 
"My boy," said he, " don't bother about 
Tragedy. Stick to Comedy and you'll 
succeed. After all it's better to make 
people laugh than cry." 

I was still unconvinced, in spite of my 
regard for him. Shortly after this I was 
cast for Cardinal Pandulph, Junius Brutus 
Booth, Mrs. Agnes Booth and Joseph 
Wheelock being the stellar attractions. 
The part was given to me by mistake, but 
I was allowed to keep it, and Mrs. Al- 



48 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

baugh assisted me materially in the cos- 
tuming. She was always most consider- 
ate and kind to us in our struggles. She 
lent me the cardinal's robe ; some cheap 
curtain material answered the purpose of 
collar and cuffs, while a little red flannel 
served for his eminence's skull cap. 

I had a vivid recollection of Richelieu's 
picture in the gallery at Versailles, and 
even with my remarkable wig was able to 
reproduce him fairly well. To the amaze- 
ment of everybody, my effort was received 
with the utmost attention by the audience 
and crowned with hearty applause, The 
newspapers again approved, one paper 
going so far as to predict a gilt-edged 
future for me. 

I was enabled, through this little suc- 
cess, to bring into our company a young 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 49 

friend of mine — a refined, educated, de- 
lightful fellow. He served in the capacity 
of super, and being familiar with my 
struggle he was perfectly willing to begin 
as I had done at the very bottom of the 
ladder. On Friday night we were to play 
"King John." He attended rehearsal in 
the morning, and everything went well, 
his principal duty being to bring the king 
in on a bier. Four men carried him on. 
The king had to rise from the bier, and 
the four men, still holding it, had to catch 
him as he fell back exhausted after his 
scene. I made up rapidly and hurried 
down to see how my friend looked. He 
had purchased a pair of very white 
tights, and the hauberk he wore was 
painfully short and exposed an extra- 
ordinary length of limb. I consoled him, 



50 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

however, and said the general effect was 
all right. 

In due time the King was brought on; 
the scene was enacted and back he fell 
with a thud upon the stage, my friend 
having let go of the bier. Down went the 
King to the floor and down came the cur- 
tain. Up rose the enraged King, and 
without a word of warning he grasped my 
astonished friend by the throat and backed 
him off from the middle of the stage to 
the wall of the theater, each step accom- 
panied by the strongest comments. I 
shall never forget the scene — my friend's 
head against the whitewashed wall, his 
tongue protruding, his eyes rolling, and 
Mr. Booth's frantic efforts to drive him 
through brick and mortar into the adjoin- 
ing building. When finally released, my 






FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 5 1 

ambitious recruit gathered what was left 
of himself together, rushed to the super's 
room, tore off his hauberk, seized his 
unmentionables, clapped on his overcoat, 
and fled the scene. It was weeks after 
that before he would even speak to me. 
He seemed in some occult manner to link 
me with his mishap, and though on speak- 
ing terms with him, our intimacy was 
never fully restored. 

Incidents of this nature were of fre- 
quent occurrence in those days ; and 
though they appear humorous in descrip- 
tion, perhaps, they were the cause of 
much anxiety and worry to me at the 
time. In everything I attempted I was 
my own severest critic, and am to this 
day. Very seldom indeed, in spite of 
long experience, do I feel absolutely satis- 



52 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

fied with my most successful efforts. My 
own shortcomings were ever before me 
and I was discouraged at the slowness of 
my progress. An unusual, abnormal ner- 
vousness, which I have never thoroughly 
conquered, was at this period of my career 
my chief obstacle. Artistic instincts, origi- 
nal conception, and unusual perseverance 
I had, but much that I did was marred 
and blurred by my arch-enemy, nervous- 
ness — by my want of confidence or 
" cheek," as we are wont to term it now. 

This hard-earned experience was, how- 
ever, invaluable to me, and although it 
was unpleasant enough to have four and 
sometimes five small parts to play in one 
evening — such parts as an Irishman, an 
Indian, a policeman and a nigger, and the 
following week have to appear as Horatio, 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 53 

Glavis, the Apothecary and such ilk — I 
was imperceptibly absorbing and ac- 
quiring that knowledge which, it seems 
to me, is essential to permanent success in 
our difficult art. 

I must devote a word or two to the 
prominence given my dress suit in these 
early struggles. It was a valuable pos- 
session in those days, and very few utility 
men owned such a thing. It was common 
property among us, of course. We shared 
alike in everything. One of my fellow 
sufferers was a very tall man, the other, 
poor little "Reddy,"a remarkably short 
one. The tall man was middle aged, 
with a painful defect in one eye. He was 
a man of sorrows and he was acquainted 
with grief, for he had a large family and 
a small salary. Naturally, he was driven 



I 



54 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

to strange expedients in his efforts to dress. 
We looked up to him, for his age com- 
manded our respect and his fertility of re- 
source astonished all of us. Among other 
miracles that he could work was that of 
converting a sheet of plain foolscap into 
a shirt bosom. Clean collars and immacu- 
late cuffs he readily produced from ordi- 
nary note paper. 

On one occasion I remember we were 
supporting Yankee Locke, a celebrated 
character comedian. I represented in my 
dress suit, embellished with the Order of 
the Bath, Star of India, etc., the Governor 
of Australia, as the character presented it- 
self to my mind. I had granted an inter- 
view in the front scene to the ingenious 
American, Yankee Locke, whose object 
it was to introduce some patent or another 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 55 

into Australia. At the first entrance stood 
the tall man in very soiled shirt-sleeves, 
but with spotless paper bosom, collars and 
cuffs. As soon as I came off I wriggled 
out of my dress coat, which the tall man 
immediately put on, and before the flats 
were withdrawn he took his place in the 
halls of dazzling light, and with a jaunty 
air and a stage swagger he sailed gallantly 
up and down the back of the scene, a fair 
ballet lady on his arm. 

Together they represented the nobility 
and fashion of the day. Keeping well up 
stage the shortness of sleeve and the glar- 
ing misfit of the body of the garment were 
not perceptible to a confiding public. In 
the next act the small man, who had at- 
tached to the same coat a red flannel col- 
lar and twisted some Dutch metal around 



56 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

the buttons, appeared to great advantage 
as a liveried footman ; and thus we turned 
and toiled and contrived in our efforts to 
obey the master's injunction to hold the 
mirror up to Nature. 

It was at this time that a ray of sunlight 
came from an unexpected quarter into my 
hopeful, if not always successful, life. 
Joseph Jefferson occupied a box in our 
theater at the performance given by Mr. 
Locke, and he was kind enough to inquire 
who the little man was who played the part 
of the Governor of Australia. When 
told who I was, and not recognizing 
in my name one that he had heard before, 
he sent me word that he was pleased with 
my work, and added : "Tell him to per- 
severe and he is certain to be heard of 
hereafter." It is a very long list of 



frELix morris's reminiscences. 57 

kind remarks such as that which, al- 
most as much as the infinite number of 
generous and helpful acts which have 
characterized the lovely and lovable life of 
this great actor, will cause him to be 
remembered by those who have felt the 
need of his encouragement and assist- 
ance longer, perhaps, than even his mas- 
terly impersonation will keep his memory 
green in the hearts of an affectionate and 
adoring public. 

IV. 

Mr. John Albaugh re-engaged me for 
the following season at $12 per week, an 
episode which I construed as an evidence 
of my increasing value. The $8 per week 
that I had been working for did not leave 
much surplus for summer, though I had 



58 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

made sundry small additions to my ward- 
robe out of my modest income. It was, 
therefore, with enthusiasm that I accepted 
the offer of a Mr. Cotton to join his com- 
pany and play a summer season through 
the small towns of Vermont, Massachu- 
setts and New York States. 

The salary offered me was nominal, but 
the inducements in the line of parts were 
sufficient for my vaulting ambition. I was 
to play Julio Dormilly in "Six Degrees of 
Crime," a leading part; Aminadab Sleek 
in the "Serious Family''; Melter Moss in 
the " Ticket-of- Leave Man," and a long 
list of farce parts of equal prominence. 
We carried our own orchestra, consisting 
of four pieces. The services of the mu- 
sicians were required on the stage as well 
as in the orchestra. A song and dance 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 59 

man worked the snare drum, and I figured 
in the capacity of bass drummer. I ob- 
jected very much to this new departure, 
but as I read music it was decided the 
success of the undertaking depended on 
my acceptance of this trust. 

On our arrival in any little town the or- 
chestra had to assemble at the hall, and 
thence sally forth and advertise our enter- 
prise by a public-out-door demonstration. 
Our street parade was a feature, and, con- 
sidering our numbers, we succeeded in 
making more noise than any organization 
of the kind it has ever been my misfortune 
to listen to before or since. Another 
addition to my numerous duties immedi- 
ately suggested itself to our thrifty mana- 
ger. To save printing, it was decided that 
the one bill-stand, to be found in all small 



6o felix morris's reminiscences. 

towns, should be covered with sheets of 
white paper and ornamented by me. So, 
armed with brush and lampblack, and 
perched on a ladder, I printed in bold 
characters our programme for the length 
of time we were to remain in the place. 
When I think of the amount of work that 
was exacted of me, and the guileless man- 
ner in which I undertook everything, I 
marvel, now, at my absolute simplicity. 
At the time I fairly revelled in my work. 
Youthful enthusiasm is often deaf and 
blind ! 

We did remarkably well, at first. It 
was the early summer, when blue birds 
mate and robins love ; when streamlets 
babble and Nature dons her wedding 
robes; when the soft south wind woos the 
timid leaf and sighs her amorous strains, 



FELIX MORRISS REMINISCENCES. 6 1 

Man — impressionable man — follows Na- 
ture's lead, and our company was seized 
with a matrimonial epidemic. Pretty 
Gertie Granville was one of our earliest 
victims, and then the manager, receiving 
an arrow from Cupid's fatal bow, yielded 
to the force of circumstances, and again 
the air was laden with the silvery song of 
joyous wedding bells. Honeymoon junk- 
eting became the order of the day, and in 
the meantime, those of the company who 
were merely spectators at the gladsome 
court of Hymen remained in statu quo. 

No performances were given, and the 
lovely days were spent on the green hill- 
sides. We surrendered ourselves to the 
delights of trout fishing, while baseball, 
swimming and every form of recreation 
constituted our general occupation. It 



62 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

was delighful, to be sure, to thus drift 
along, but our hotel bill was gradually 
and surely mounting up, and when the 
revels were over and we again addressed 
ourselves to prosaic labor, we found our- 
selves embarrassed by a ten days' hotel bill 
and the enforced companionship of the 
landlord in our travels to our next halting 
place. His devotion to us was steadfast, 
and he remained with us until his claim 
was settled. Thus were we passed along 
from one hotel proprietor to another, for 
the fates were not propitious, our business 
gradually becoming worse and worse. 
Matters finally reached a climax at Glens 
Falls, where our baggage was seized, and 
we had to shift for ourselves and do the 
best we could. I saved my dress suit by 
wearing it under my ordinary attire, but 



FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 6$ 

my phenomenal wig, the serviceable black 
tights and much that was useful to me I 
was compelled to leave behind. It was 
somewhat of a blow, but I had survived 
so much already that I took heart and 
straggled back to Albany and began my 
third season's engagement there. 

This proved quite an important season 
for me. Advancement was rapid and I re- 
alized at last that the line of business in 
which I might eventually succeed was not 
tragedy. 

It is a great victory, when one is pur- 
suing the wrong course, to have his bad 
half hour over with and to set out on the 
right road, even though it may cost him 
many a pang to bid a final adieu to hopes 
long cherished but never to be fulfilled, 
and awaken in his breast a certain reluc- 



64 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

tance to making friends with a new series 
of conditions which were not included in 
his primary survey of the great field of 
artistic endeavor. 

My character studies were invariably 
recognized and encouraged by the press, 
while it was obvious that my dramatic 
value steadily increased. Mr. Alfred 
Becks, well known in theatrical circles, 
was at that time manager for Lotta, and he 
selected me to play a character part in 
". Musette," then a new production. His 
kindly advice was of infinite value to me, 
and on the first night the piece was done 
I was surprised at the impression my efforts 
seemed to make on the audience. 

At the end of one scene, which went 
remarkably well, I wandered down to my 
dressing-room in the regions below. I 



FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 65 

could hear the continued applause, and 
was startled beyond description by cries 
of " Fe-e-1-ix ! Felix!" I rushed to the 
stairway fearing that something had gone 
wrong, and was told to come up at once. 
I did so and found the kindly little lady 
waiting on the stage. When she caught 
sight of me she came to the wings and 
gently led me — astonished and puzzled — 
before the audience. Under the auspices, 
therefore, of this charming woman, I re- 
ceived my first call before the curtain. So 
pleased was she with my success that she 
caused an offer to be made for my services, 
but my manager did not wish to release 
me and I had to remain where I was. 

We supported John T. Raymond in his 
inimitable Col. Sellers, and what a per- 
formance it was ! What an astounding 



66 FELIX morris's reminiscences. 

example Raymond was of fortune's vagar- 
ies. Nobody ever had a harder struggle 
than he. Suddenly, however, the clouds 
were lifted, and popularity and money 
fairly rained upon him. Lucille Western 
was an extraordinary clever emotional act- 
ress. I shall never forget her performance 
in ' ' The Childstealer " and ' ' East Lynne. " 
Her pathos was astonishing. I had also, 
during my Albany experience, encountered 
another remarkable actress named Char- 
lotte Crampton, a little bit of a woman 
who played Richard III in a wonderful 
manner. Her fight in the last act im- 
pressed me wonderfully, as it did Rich- 
mond too, for it took him all his time to 
parry and guard her onslaught. Jane 
Coombs was then an attraction, and Mrs. 
D, P. Bowers was a very great favorite. E, 



FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 6j 

L. Davenport was masterly in "Hamlet" 
and tremendous as Sir Giles Overreach. 
Edwin Adams — most popular in "Enoch 
Arden " — was delightful, while Frank 
Chanfrau, in "Kit," was also inimitable. 
A wonderful comedian I thought him. 

And so on through a long line of vary- 
ing attractions we played, doing everything 
in the way of support, from burlesque, with 
pretty Eliza Wethersby, to stirring melo- 
drama. Even "Mazeppa " held the boards 
for a week each season, and in that, as in 
everything else, we contributed our share 
to the performance as a whole. I do not 
pretend to say our performances were ex- 
cellent. We were simply an ordinary 
stock company, with requirements which 
were all too varied for a perfect result. 
Again, our preparations were too hasty to 



63 felix morris's reminiscences. 

admit of much good work. But the 
amount of rough experience gained was 
invaluable. 

Towards the end of the season I re- 
ceived an offer, through Mr. Alfred Becks, 
to play in the original production of the 
" Shaughraun " in Canada. This offer I 
accepted after much consultation with my 
friends in Albany, who thought the oppor- 
tunity a good one and a decided step in 
advance, as I was to occupy the position 
of comedian in my coming engagement. 
I took leave of my comrades and left the 
the old city with much regret, for it had 
been the scene of my many struggles and 
of the few triumphs that had rewarded my 
persistent endeavors. We opened in Ottawa, 
and the production was very successful. 
Mr. Becks was with us as Mr. Dion Bou- 



FELIX MORRISES REMINISCENCES. 69 

cicault's representative. He had to collect 
royalties and watch Mr. Boucicault's in- 
terests. 

From Ottawa we visited the smaller 
towns of Western Canada, and, of course, 
did badly. Salaries were in arrears, and 
royalties too, and this led to constant 
friction between the manager and Mr. 
Becks. We worked along, however, the 
railroad frequently advancing tickets on 
our baggage in order to facilitate our 
migrations. It was sometimes inconven- 
ient, to be sure, to be subjected to these 
temporary divorces from our impediments, 
but we were a jolly crew and didn't mind 
it much. 

We had one or two thirsty souls with 
us, and these gentlemen were often driven 
to strange expedients to raise a little 



70 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

money. Coming upon a little crowd of 
people on Dominion Day on the parade 
ground in Chatham, I noticed that they 
were intently watching something that was 
going on. To my amazement, as I drew 
near, I recognized two members of our 
company ; one, quite a clever conjurer, 
was giving proofs of his skill, while the 
other gentleman was dilating upon his dex- 
terity and entertaining the crowd in the 
most pleasant and familiar manner. The 
performance ended with the incident of a 
hat being passed around. A neat little 
collection was taken up, and I dare say 
the burning thirst of the performers in this 
impromptu entertainment was subsequent- 
ly allayed. 

We eventually reached Quebec, where 
we intended to fill in a final week. But 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. J I 

fortune smiled, business opened well and 
continued so for six weeks, the company 
in the mean time having taken affairs in 
their own hands. We were enabled to 
pay off Mr. Boucicault's claims, discard 
the ' ' Shaughraun " and appear in a reper- 
toire of our own. This change of plan 
met with such welcome success that finally 
our financial difficulties were straightened 
out and the summer season came to a 
satisfactory and propitious end. 



Our manager had, in the meantime, and 
in spite of financial troubles, secured the 
lease of the then new theater in Montreal, 
the Academy of Music, a remarkably fine 
building erected by a company of wealthy 
Montrealers, with Sir Hugh Allen at the 



72 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

head of affairs. How this transaction was 
brought about I am at a loss to know. 
Perhaps the impression made by the sum- 
mer company,whose varying fortunes I have 
already described in brief, had something 
to do with it. At any rate, I was engaged 
for the opening season at Montreal. 

Upon the dissolution of the summer 
company I went from Quebec to New 
York, as I had some weeks to tide over 
before my season began. Difficulties again 
stared me in the face, for I had very little 
money on hand ; but just as affairs were 
beginning to look serious a telegram from 
St. Johns, New Brunswick, summoned me 
there. My railroad ticket came the next 
day, and off I started with less than 
seventy-five cents in my pocket. Arrived 
at Bangor, Maine, I discovered to my dis- 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 73 

may that the train stopped there for the 
night, and here I was with eighteen cents 
in hand. I consoled myself with the idea 
that I could remain in the waiting room 
of the railway station all night. In this 
laudable design I was doomed to disap- 
pointment as an official, after a short de- 
lay, began locking doors and applying 
bolts. On questioning him he informed 
me that the train started at 8.30 in the 
morning and that he was closing for the 
night. 

As I turned away from the little depot 
the cold, white fog came rolling up the 
street, adding materially to the discomfort 
of my situation and emphasizing the futil- 
ity of summer attire as an adequate 
protection against the chilly and nipping 
air of Maine. I strolled about a little, then 



74 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

solaced myself with a cup of coffee and a 
doughnut, and, thus fortified, passed the 
long, cold night, occasionally varying the 
monotony by short cat-naps on the wooden 
steps of the little station, my actions, mean- 
time, being suspiciously watched by an 
Irish guardian of the peace, who would not 
be satisfied with the explanations I vouch- 
safed him, and who eagerly awaited the 
development of some burglarious scheme, 
with which I felt certain he associated me. 
The longest night has its ending, and 
morning came at last. I was very weary, 
however, as I boarded my train and 
started for St. Johns, which I reached at 
about 7.30 that night, just in time to rush 
to the theater in season to step upon the 
stage a little after eight o'clock, as Father 
Doolan in the " Shaughraun. " Happily 






FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 75 

for the audience, with the exception of a 
slight weakness of voice, nothing in- 
dicated the ordeal I had gone through 
the preceding night. I mention this in- 
cident as another proof of my lack of 
assurance, my utter want of that knowl- 
edge which enables men to get on in the 
world. It never occurred to me to make 
my case known to a hotel proprietor who 
could readily have verified my statement 
by telegram, and thus saved me a most 
unpleasant experience. It is recollections 
such as these that convince me that nature 
dealt with me in a most niggardly man- 
ner in respect of foresight. The man of 
whom it was said that he had his head in 
the clouds and his feet in the mud surely 
had a counterpart in me in those early 
days of my dramatic career. 



J 6 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

Finally, the opening night of the new 
theater in Montreal came, and with it 
a packed house and splendid audience. 
"Rosedale" was the attraction, and the 
verdict was unanimous — a great "go." 
Everybody was delighted, and we pro- 
duced in rapid succession all the Fifth 
Avenue successes — "Divorce," "Pique," 
"A Big Bonanza," "Saratoga," and 
"Under the Gaslight." Also the Union 
Square pieces — "The Two Orphans," 
' ' The Geneva Cross, " and ' ' Rose Michel. " 
I had a most gratifying line of parts, 
and I revelled in them to my heart's de- 
light. My popularity was quickly at the 
full, our receipts were very large, and the 
harvest never-ending. And yet I had the 
utmost difficulty in getting my salary. 
Our business manager was a most evasive 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. J*] 

person. He had a knack of vanishing 
behind doors and of disappearing around 
corners, and as for excuses, he was a per- 
fect master in the art of making them. 
I never met his like, and I hope I never 
shall again. My salary was very small 
considering the position I held and the 
popularity I enjoyed. 

I was urged by my fellow actors, Fred- 
eric Bryton among the number, to insist 
upon an increase. This I hesitated to do, 
for I was happy in the enjoyment of my 
extraordinary popularity and in the 
knowledge that my name was a house- 
hold word. As an indication of the 
ascendency in which I found my star, I 
may pardonably mention, I think, that 
once when, as a result of a severe cold, I 
had lost my voice and was confined to my 






?8 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

room for ten days, the most renowned 
specialist in Montreal, Dr. Major, at- 
tended me, and would not hear of com- 
pensation. My room was a bower of 
flowers sent by friends and anonymous 
admirers. Dozens of jars of jellies and 
home-made remedies attested the kind- 
ness of the public, and when I appeared 
again a perfect ovation awaited me. Few 
actors, whatever their position, have been 
so generously treated as I was in Montreal, 
and I look back with natural pride upon 
these events and cherish their memory 
with fondest recollections. 

Numberless considerations influenced 
me in my hesitation about asking for ade- 
quate compensation, but at last I sum- 
moned up courage and approached my 
manager. An opportunity to attack him 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 79 

offered at his hotel, and I lured him into 
the smoking-room, which happened to 
be vacant. He was unsuspicious of my 
motive and slapped me on the back and 
in pleasant tones assured me of his 
esteem. I hemmed and hawed a little, 
and then ejaculated the words, " Increase 
of salary. " With a broken, dejected look 
and a smothered groan he sank into a 
chair like a man stricken with disease, 
and actually wept. 

"My God," said he, between sobs, 
"after all my kindness, after all I've done 
for you. Why, Felix, I've made you, and 
this is your gratitude ! " 

I never felt so guilty in all my life, and 
vainly tried to comfort him. The scene 
ended in my being almost as much affected 
as he was, and away I went, loathing my- 



80 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

self for having caused his gentle heart 
such pain. On comparing notes with 
my fellow actors I found my account of 
the interview was received with the utmost 
levity, not to say hilarity, and that the 
whole scene was simply a chestnut. Tears, 
sobs, groans and pocket handkerchief had 
frequently been used before as a means of 
escaping the payment of a well-earned 
increase of salary. The magic touch of 
Midias was no more certain of a golden 
product than any talk of more money 
was to bring about a lachrymose condi- 
tion of affairs with this fair-dealing gentle- 
man. 

An offer from Mr. McVickar, of Chi- 
cago, happened along very opportunely, 
however, and the difficulty was removed. 
I obtained a small increase of salary when 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 51 

it was found I was wanted elsewhere. 
We supported, during the course of the 
season, George Fawcett Rowe, in his un- 
rivaled performance of Micawber, and 
the incomparable Adelaide Neilson. We 
had been waiting about at the theater for 
hours, one day, expecting her arrival. 
Trains were delayed, and it was three 
o'clock before she put in an appearance. 
At that hour she bustled on to the stage 
in traveling ulster and soft-crowned hat. 
She was very tired, and evidently out of 
sorts. She was accompanied by Eben 
Plympton for leading support. 

"And this is the great Neilson," I told 
myself. The reverie into which I disap- 
pointedly had fallen was disturbed by the 
sound of a gruff voice accompanied by an 
angry push. 



82 FELTX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

"Clear the stage, you supers," said the 
voice. 

"One moment," I explained. "I'm 
the super who plays Touchstone." 

Plympton understood his mistake, and 
made amends by introducing me to Miss 
Neilson. At night what a transformation 
we witnessed in this remarkable woman ! 
As she sailed on she was nothing short of 
a vision, and her performance of Rosa- 
lind was a revelation. She was very gra- 
cious to me ; sent for me to come to her 
dressing-room and complimented me in 
the most nattering terms on my Touch- 
stone. 

The success of my Shakesperian comedy 
characters I attribute very largely to the 
kindly interest of my old friend, Mr. T. 
D. King, of Montreal. He was an en- 



FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 8$ 

thusiast, and had accumulated a valuable 
Shakespearean library. Together we made 
researches, compared notes, verified cer- 
tain readings, and the results were un- 
usually satisfactory. When Mr. King 
died, his valuable collection became the 
property of McGill College. 

As the season drew to a close, my 
name was put up for a benefit. I was 
the recipient of a handsome testimonial 
from the company in the form of Knight's 
Edition of Shakespeare, and an overflow- 
ing house greeted my appearance. I 
played Bod Sackett in Bronson Howard's 
" Saratoga." A tremendous call brought 
me before the curtain, and after a shower 
of bouquets I was allowed to return 
thanks, which I did in a few carefully 
prepared remarks. I was somewhat dis- 



84 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

appointed, however, at the reception of 
my words. They caused much merri- 
ment, and I had intended merely to ac- 
knowledge, in elegant and well-rounded 
phrase, my obligations and gratitude. 
The fact was that half my moustache had 
disappeared in the excitement of the 
occasion, and when I discovered my loss 
I was compelled to join in the laughter 
my appearance provoked, and thus the 
performance ended. 

The evasive person already mentioned 
settled up with me the next day, and 
to my astonishment proved by abstruse 
and marvelous calculation that I was a 
creditor to the amount of something less 
than $30. My share of the benefit was 
supposed to be one-third. The receipts 
could not have been less than $1,200, 



FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 85 

But the blandness and humility of this 
mathematical conjuror were allowed to 
prevail. He produced numerous little 
slips of paper which were simply con- 
fusing, as in our irregular methods I 
never kept an account of anything, and 
although my credulity was severly taxed 
I accepted his figures. He was generous 
enough to declare that I had a great future 
before me, and with a warm shake of the 
hand and a most angelic smile, he 
quietly vanished from my view. 

VI. 

The flood tide of prosperity began to 
ebb." Our manager had launched out 
into all sorts of enterprises. Interest in 
the new theater flagged ; receipts fell off, 
expenses increased, and the inevitable col- 






86 felix morris's reminiscences. 

lapse followed. Injudicious friends urged 
Mr. Neil Warner and myself to assume the 
management of the Academy of Music ; 
we did so, and struggled frantically to make 
a success of our enterprise. As long as 
we adhered to the combination system 
we were successful. We played George 
Rignold in " Henry V," and a very fine 
production it was ; "Evangeline," with 
Nat Goodwin as notary. Pretty Eliza 
Wethersby, Harry Dixey and Richard 
Golden were also in the cast. Joe Murphy 
came to us in "Kerry Gow ; " my old 
Albany manager, John Albaugh, and com- 
pany added their excellence, and we did 
remarkably well. But when our stock 
company assembled the trouble began. It 
certainly was no fault of the ladies and 
gentlemen comprising the company. 



FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. &J 

We had been most careful in our selec- 
tion. Gertrude Kellogg was our leading 
lady, George Riddle our juvenile man, 
Mrs. Jordan, an excellent actress, our old 
lady. I played comedy and eccentrics, 
Neil Warner leads, and so on. Our ex- 
penses were altogether too heavy, our 
financial backers became weary, and we 
had to wind up affairs as best as we could. 
Our company was most considerate. A 
benefit gotten up in my name proved a 
great success. We turned the receipts 
over to the company, and were enabled 
to pay off most of our indebtedness in this 
way. The failure was really a great blow 
to me, at the time. I had hoped so much 
and it seemed such an opportunity for so 
young a man. The crash staggered me, 
and I returned to New York broken in 



50 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

spirit and poorer in pocket than when I 
first landed in the New World. 

The proverbial "silver lining," how- 
ever, appeared in the form of an engage- 
ment under Mr. Stephen Fiske's manage- 
ment at the Fifth Avenue Theater. He 
had succeeded Mr. Daly. I was in the 
cast that supported Mary Anderson in her 
first New York engagement. She was at 
that time a big, beautiful girl and as play- 
ful as a kitten. Totally wanting in an 
idea of the responsibility of her work, she 
often surprised us with flashes of rare 
talent, while her melodious Southern voice 
reminded us of Mr. Richard Grant White's 
definition of another woman's voice which, 
with bold originality, he classified as 
• ' vocal velvet " Then came Modjeska's 
first appearance and unqualified success, 



FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 89 

followed by several stock productions. 
Among these was Mary Fiske's play en- 
titled " Dioulmough." We were not suc- 
cessful, however, and our season ended 
unsatisfactorily. 

It was during this engagement that I 
had the pleasure of meeting a comedian, 
whose modesty was as remarkable as his 
talent, and whose pleasant, unaffected 
manner impressed me very much. I re- 
fer to James Lewis. Aunt Louisa Eld- 
ridge was also a member of the company. 
Her vivacity and good humor were al- 
ways contagious and helped to lighten 
the burden of the hour. Now came an 
opportunity which might have led to for- 
tune, but want of confidence on my part 
again stood in my way and I did not ac- 
cept the offer. A manager wanted to 



90 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

take me out West and star me in the part 
of De Boots in "The Widow Hunt." He 
was what is termed a hustler, and was 
prepared for a vigorous campaign. The 
idea of responsibility and possible failure 
was ever before me, and I dreaded a re- 
peated ordeal of hypothecated trunks and 
very uncertain remuneration. He had 
seen my performance of the part in 
Canada, and felt sure of success. He 
failed to persuade me, however, and left 
me with the remark that I was the blank- 
est fool he'd ever come across. 

An offer of an engagement to play in 
May Howard's company in Halifax, 
N. S., came in the nick of time. The 
salary was very small, but I had no choice 
and accepted it. The expression, "Go 
to Halifax, " was not unfamiliar to me. 



FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 9I 

1 evoked it on many occasions in my 
dramatic life, and now I had literally to 
obey the mandate. But I cared not for I 
was becoming acclimated, as it were, to 
the slings and arrows of outrageous for- 
tune. My struggles and best endeavors to 
excel had brought me more kicks than 
half-pence. Fate was against me and 
hope had left me. In this mood I ar- 
rived in Halifax. 

Business was good and our season con- 
tinued longer than we expected, and I 
soon forgot, in the prosperity of the pres- 
ent, the hard conditions of the past. 
After our performance it was customary to 
meet, in the Halifax Hotel, a few merry 
souls, and with them while away the night 
in blithesome chat and liberal potation. 
This we frequently did until "the morn 



92 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

in russet mantle clad" would send its 
glowing light through the clinks of shut- 
ter and the sun shoot a glimmer over the 
dingy blind. On one such sweet May 
morn, we revelers — " The Owls " we called 
ourselves — touched by the spirit of early 
dawn, determined upon a long walk to 
the point, a lovely spot where jagged rocks 
are bathed in ocean's spray, and the silver 
maple nutters in the morning's breath. 
Here we played and romped like very 
school lads. We raced and fenced and 
sparred, and did all sorts of mad things, 
and then back to the hotel and to prosy 
life again. After breakfast came the 
theater, and rehearsal, of course. There 
our escapades were discussed by some 
members of the company, and one 
young lady said to me quite seriously, 



FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 93 

the others treating the matter as a huge 
joke: 

"Don't you think it a pity that any one 
with your talent should throw himself 
away as you are doing ? " 

I was stricken dumb. I stammered 
out something and moved away. This 
remark set me to thinking, however. 
Nobody had ever taken that view of my 
proceedings before, and the idea bothered 
me. Indeed, it haunted me. I could 
not rid myself of it. I gradually with- 
drew from the Owl Club, where I had 
been a leading light, and the influence 
of that one remark was manifest at the 
time and has since become manifest 
for all time ; for that young lady sub- 
sequently became my wife, and to her 
sagacity and forethought I attribute any 



94 Felix morris's reminiscences. 

success I have since made in the pro- 
fession. 

George Fawcett Rowe and his bride, 
Kate Girard, a lovely creature, came down 
and played an engagement with us. They 
were, at that date, in what the French 
term their lune de miel. Never were two 
such lovers. To the prosaic and unen- 
amored their cooing was an amusing 
study. They were at the " lovey-dovey •'" 
period of existence, and influenced by 
sentiment, and, in defiance of common 
sense, determined to appear in "The 
Ticket-of- Leave Man. " Mr. Rowe played 
Bob Brier iy and his wife May Edwards. 
It was a most ordinary effort on his part, 
and he was so eccentric and peculiar that 
his Bob Brierly was entirely out of har- 
mony with all the traditions of what the 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 95 

character should be. The audience was 
amused. Mr. Rowe's pathos was laughed 
at, and his comedy received most serious 
attention. He was oblivious, however, to 
the situation, and with streaming eyes 
and besmirched face — for his make-up 
had run in every direction — he assured me 
that ' ' this sort of part, dear boy, always 
takes it out of me, and to have such an 

angel to play with is too d d awful 

for anything." I mention this incident 
with no idea of detracting from his match- 
less performance of Micawber — a perform- 
ance that delighted Charles Dickens him- 
self, and one that will live forever in the 
memory of those who were fortunate 
enough to witness it. It must take rank 
as a work of exquisite drollery. Fawcett 
Rowe was a man of highest intelligence 



g6 felix morris's reminiscences. 

and attainments, possessing exquisite 
taste and sententious humor, a delightful 
companion, and a rare, kind heart. 
Surely, the place that he occupied is still 
vacant and will not again be filled. 

An unusual incident occurred at a 
benefit performance, which was tendered 
to me by the officers of the North Atlantic 
Squadron, then in the harbor. They re- 
quested me to play William in "Black- 
eyed Susan " — rather a singular request, 
but there was no way out of it. They de- 
manded it and I had to comply. One of 
the officers was an old fellow-student, and 
I rather think he instigated the conspiracy. 
To make the production as realistic as 
possible, all the necessary uniforms were 
furnished by the officers, together with 
boatswain, boatswain's mate and twenty- 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 97 

five Jack tars. The admiral was present, 
and ladies and officers from the fort were 
there — a truly delightful audience. 

The first piece went admirably, and then 
we cleared the decks for action. The 
sailors had been kept in the background 
during the early part of the evening. Some 
were watching the play from the wings 
while others were satiating a liberal thirst 
by frequent visits to the adjacent dram- 
shops. The play proceeded splendidly 
until we arrived at the scene where Wil- 
liam and all his pals are enjoying liberty 
ashore. One of the company sang Nancy 
Lee, the sailors joining in the chorus. 
They sang with a will. They would not 
belay. "'Vast heaving," shouted the 
boatswain, but no notice was taken. The 
boatswain's pipe shrilly whistled "Belay! 



98 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

belay! belay !" The song was a favorite 
with them, and this was their chance. So 
they improved it with a vigor character- 
istic of men who plough the waters. 

The audience waved and applauded 
which only increased the hubbub. 
Finally, from sheer lack of breath, the 
men quieted down, and then one of their 
number danced a hornpipe. He was the 
swell dancer of the fleet, and the enco- 
miums and encouragement he received 
from his mates were too realistic for any- 
thing. The tars had the deck and for the 
time we were powerless. To cap the 
climax, at the conclusion of the dance a 
big, brawny, bearded salt staggered down 
to the footlights, and, shaking his huge 
fist at the audience, hurled a challenge 
in stentorian tones to "Any bloomin' 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 99 

number of bloomin' landlubbers who 
wanted their bloomin' daylights staved 
in!" It took "the whole crew and the 
bo'suns two," to get him away and allay 
his excitement. It looked at one time 
as if the Irish remedy of a free fight would 
be the only means of restoring harmony, 
and we all felt greatly relieved when the 
curtain fell, and after much handshaking 
and three rousing cheers we parted com- 
pany with our nautical friends. 

At the end of the Halifax season we 
went, under Mr. Leslie Gossin's manage- 
ment, to Jamestown, Lake Chautauqua, 
N. Y. The summer days went pleasantly 
by, and we were fairly successful. We 
enjoyed the place hugely. I played 
rather a ridiculous figure there one day. 
I indulged my fondness for swimming on 
s 



IOO FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

every possible occasion, and was arrested, 
together with half-a-dozen dirty little 
urchins, and taken by the village Dogberry 
before the squire. This important person- 
age, who was happily an inveterate theater- 
goer, dismissed me with a reprimand, 
which he afterwards explained, as we 
pledged each other in a friendly cocktail, 
was necessary on account of Dogberry. 

Morris Simmonds, to whom I am in- 
debted for many engagements, sent me an 
offer to play comedy parts in the Califor- 
nia Theater, San Francisco. After some 
negotiating the contract was sighed and 
the future looked hopeful to some one 
else besides myself — one whose interest in 
my affairs has never nagged, whose judg- 
ment has never erred, who, bearing with 
me the heat and burden of the day, fares 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. IOI 

forward with me, ever cheerful and ever 
hopeful. 

VII. 

The journey across this wonderful con- 
tinent was full of interest to me. I real- 
ized for the first time the vastness of the 
land in which I lived. After leaving 
Omaha fourteen years ago hardly a- house 
was to be seen — nothing but rolling prairie 
and never-ending alkali plains. Tiny 
settlements clustered around the railroad 
depots and rough shanties abounded, 
while empty tomato cans and bottles 
were the chief features of the landscape. 
But now in place of these we see flourish- 
ing towns and thriving villages, which 
attest the wonderful growth and develop- 
ment that have taken place in that com- 



102 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

paratively short period since my first 
journey to the sunset land was undertaken. 
Ogden, with its magnificent depot of to- 
day, was then one long, low, rambling 
shed, with here and there a solitary frame 
house in the distance. You saw the same 
beautiful green valley, the same glorious 
range of mountains ; but the country was 
sparsely settled — a lovely but lonely place, 
I thought it. I strolled up and down the 
railroad platform, and at the farther end 
saw a man unloading a wagon load of 
apples. The fruit looked so fine, they 
were such splendid specimens, that I asked 
him where they came from. 

"Oh, jeest a wee bit up the valley," 
said he, " I raise them myself." 

The moment he opened his lips I knew 
he was a Scotchman, and I immediately 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. IO3 

addressed him in the Scotch dialect. I 
branched out on the subject of Mormon- 
ism, and expressed myself rather freely 
thereon. He listened and replied: 

"Weel, I'm jeest a wee bit o' a Mor- 
mon myself." I didn't believe this pos- 
sible of a Scotchman with strict Presby- 
terian principles, with the old kirk and 
teachings ever in his memory. 

u Aye, there's a good deal in what you 
say, nae doubt," said he; "bit I've been 
here maeny years, and I've done vera weel. 
I've done vera weel" he repeated, and 
with an indescribable wink of the eye and 
an impressive hand shake, he got into his 
wagon and drove away. The Scotch ex- 
cuse amused me very much. It was so 
characteristic, such a touch of nature. I 
am half Scotchman myself. I know the 



104 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

peculiarities of the race and the impor- 
tance they infrequently attach to the solids 
and substantiate of this life. 

With the exception of a little excite- 
ment caused by a rumor of train robbers 
and the presence of a guard of United 
States troops on our train, nothing hap- 
pened to mar the pleasure of the last part 
of our journey. After the snow sheds are 
passed the descent from the Sierras is 
rapid, and pines give way to live oak; 
sage bush and vines and orange and fig 
trees reveal a land of perpetual sunshine 
and cloudless sky. As we rolled on to the 
railroad pier at Oakland glimpses of the 
Golden Gate and the hazy, limitless be- 
yond, bathed in warmest tints of setting 
sun, held me spellbound. A friendly 
voice and a slap on the back brought me 



FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. IO5 

to earth again. Frank Cotter, my old 
friend of ray first Canadian campaign, had 
taken the trouble to come and meet me. 
He was the juvenile man of the California 
Theater. 

This theater was under the manage- 
ment of General Barton and Frank Law- 
ler. They had already opened with the 
new company and had fared indifferently 
at the hands of critic and public. The 
memory of John McCullough and his un- 
rivaled band of players was too strong to 
be easily forgotten, and I realized the 
difficulties before me. It was no easy 
triumph, I thought, to gain recognition 
in the face of such stanch adherence to 
the old regime. Robert Pateman was my 
predecessor, and he was an excellent 
comedian and character actor. A simi- 



106 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

larity in our style was recognized which 
rather tended to intensify comparison. 
My opening was unfortunate. The part 
of Dan, the fire laddie, in the "Streets of 
New York/' in which I appeared, did not 
leave scope for much variety. The papers 
criticised my appearance and spoke of my 
advent as another disappointment in the 
new stock company. I said nothing, of 
course, but I thought a good deal, and 
prepared for the struggle before me with a 
degree of determination and perseverance 
that meant either death to my dramatic 
and domestic aspirations or a brilliant vic- 
tory for both. 

The comic opera "Fatinitza" was to 
receive its first presentation in America in 
the California Theater. I was cast for the 
Reporter, the leading tenor part. I told 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. lOf 

Barton Hill, our stage manager, that I was 
not an operatic tenor. 

"Never mind, my boy, it is a good 
part, a good part," said he, " you'll be all 
right." 

I doubted the assertion very much, and 
when my voice was tried it was at once 
discovered that instead of being all right 
it was all wrong, Charlie Schultz, our 
musical director, remarking : 

" Auf you sing ut like dat, you'll get 
h !" 

I quite agreed with him. 

Harry Gates, the well-known tenor, 
was finally engaged for the part, and I 
was assigned the part of the Pasha. I 
asked Barton Hill if I might pad the part 
a bit. He very kindly allowed me to do 
what I liked with it, stipulating only for 



108 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

the cues. I played the character with a 
slight French accent, crowding into it all 
the slang I could think of, and always 
apologizing for so doing with the gag, 
" Excuse the Western expression!" It 
was an act of desperation on my part — a 
stake all in a lottery sort of thing — and 
I fortunately drew a prize. The effort 
was applauded and laughed at by the 
audience, and most heartily and gen- 
erously commended by the press, and so 
the battle was won. I steadily and surely 
increased my reputation, and to-day I 
have no kinder friends, no more steadfast 
admirers, than those who greet me in San 
Francisco. 

Mining speculations were rife at the 
time, and a boom was on the boards. 
Sierra Nevada stocks were flying heaven- 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. IO9 

wards ; the whole city trembled with ex- 
citement ; it was contagious ; your very 
shoeblack thrilled you with the latest news 
as he polished your boots; your Chinese 
laundryman imparted mysterious pointers; 
fortunes were to be made for nothing — 
without outlay ; a nod of the head and 
you were worth thousands. Wiser men 
than I were carried off their feet and over 
their heads in the overwhelming tide. It 
was no wonder, therefore, that Mister 
Noodle went and did likewise. 

How rapidly it was done, too ! A ray 
of light is not swifter in its progress than 
the Stock Exchange transaction I went 
through and which landed me with a debt 
which it took most of my season's salary 
to pay ofT. A speculation on margin is, I 
believe, the correct definition of the finan- 



IIO FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

cial nightmare that swept over me like a 
cyclone. My very good friend, Tom 
Maguire, Jr., our treasurer, helped me out 
of the difficulty by paying my notes as 
they came due, deducting payments from 
my salary, thus easing the pressure for me. 
His peculiarity is an abnormal develop- 
ment of heart. He is, in fact, to his inti- 
mates, a modernized edition of "Tennes- 
see's Pardner," a type you seldom meet 
with outside of California. As an in- 
stance : A friend wanted to borrow a 
certain sum, and of course applied to Tom, 
who happened to be short of funds at the 
time. 

"Is it very particular?" queried Tom. 

" Very," said the friend. 

" Come back in half an hour and I'll 
see what I can do for you. " 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. lit 

At the expiration of the half hour the 
friend was on hand with a pleasant smile. 
Tom produced the money and handed it 
to the friend with a " Don't mention it, 
old man/' in answer to the friend's thanks. 
It was afterward revealed by a third party 
that Tom's favorite diamond stud was the 
collateral used to raise the money for the 
friend. And the friend was myself. I 
never think of the incident without ex- 
claiming, " Greater love than this hath 
no man !" 

Our season progressed satisfactorily, 
business appeared to be flourshing and it 
was not until the advent of Stars that our 
luck changed. Lawrence Barrett played a 
not very lucrative engagement. " Yorick's 
Love," however, which was produced for 
the first time, made an excellent impres- 



112 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

sion and did well. Boucicault's engage- 
ment was not profitable to the manage- 
ment, his guarantee of #500 a perform- 
ance handicapped the receipts, and it was 
not his first visit to the coast either. The 
engagement was for four weeks, and it 
crippled the management in spite of that 
great artist's work. Who can ever forget his 
Con, the Shaughraun, and his inimitable 
Kerry! The finish, delicacy and pathos of 
the latter performance has seldom been 
equaled and never surpassed on any stage. 
Ada Cavendish played a very good en- 
gagement with us in a round of legitimate 
characters. Our company was strength- 
ened, and such artists as Mrs. Judah, Mrs. 
.Saunders, Kate Denin, Ada Gilman, 
Jeffreys Lewis, sweet Nina Varian, old Mr. 
Lehman, Tom Keene, John Wilson, 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. II3 

Harry Courtaine and others rendered the 
productions in every way effective. 

Lester Wallack's engagement was some- 
what of a disappointment. Many of his 
pieces had already been played by the old 
stock company, and I think, if I remem- 
ber rightly, he shortened his stay by one 
or two weeks. He was very kind to me. 
After playing his son in "My Awful Dad " 
he inquired where the deuce I had been 
keeping myself. He had never heard of me 
before, and he asked me to let him know if 
I ever found my way East. I enjoyed his 
performances immensely. How handsome 
he was, the beau ideal of a light comedian! 
Few young men of that day, or of this day, 
for the matter of that, could compare with 
him then. John T. Raymond, Robson 
and Crane and Frank Chanfrau followed 



114 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

in rapid succession. My dramatic expe- 
rience was thus wonderfully varied. 
Florence, too, played an engagement with 
us. John E. Owens, in a round of 
comedy characters, impressed me very 
much. I still regard him as one of the 
most unctuous and versatile comedians I 
have ever seen. His performance in 
" Forty Winks" was perfection and his 
Solon Shingle was a masterpiece of comedy 
characterization. 

In spite of past experience in mining 
operations, I was induced again to dabble 
in stock. This time it was our idea to 
start a practical miner out to a new district 
to locate mines. We did so, equipping 
him in every way. Alas ! he left for parts 
unknown and we never heard of him 
again. Details of my transactions were 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. II5 

carefully reported to one in the East who 
had my interests very much at heart, and 
in spite of family counsel and friendly 
warning, her argument being that if ever 
I wanted help and assistance and advice 
now was the appointed time, she valiantly 
started to the rescue. I was at the time 
living with some of this young lady's con- 
nections and they very kindly made prep- 
arations to receive her. We were married 
imm%diately after her arrival, on Sunday 
afternoon. In my excitement I, of course, 
mislaid the marriage certificate, and rushed 
all over town only to find it safely stowed 
away in my inside vest pocket. 

After the ceremony, a delightful little 
wedding feast was tendered us by our 
friends. My duties called me to the 
theater, but what the performance was or 



Il6 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

how I got through it I cannot to this day 
remember. The day had been one of sun- 
shine and shower — clouds and alternate 
azure — but as the minister marshalled the 
little troop and addressed us, the clouds 
kindly dispersed and the glorious beams of 
the setting sun brightened the scene and 
gladdened our hopeful hearts. We took 
courage and had faith in the future. That 
faith we still possess and will to the end. 
Common sense and practical methods soon 
restored a financial equilibrium, and the re- 
mainder of our stay in California was soci- 
ally and professionally pleasant in the ex- 
treme. We need not marvel, then, that our 
hearts warm to the kind hearts, to the true 
friendships and to the lovely Western land 
we know so well. 




THE GAME OF CARDS. 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 117 

VIII. 

We left California for the East, and for 
a time the sunshine of prosperity was 
dimmed, our struggles frequently going 
unrewarded and our salaries being often 
unpaid. I blamed myself very much for 
these results, as the following account will 
explain. Lester Wallack heard of my ar- 
rival in the East, and through Morris 
Simmonds engaged me to support him 
through New England. Everything went 
well until we played in New Haven, and 
there at the matinee something upset Mr. 
Wallack's temper and he pitched into the 
carpenters, and while he was in a stormy 
mood several members of the company 
evoked his ire. I happened along at the 
time and he paid his respects to me. I 



Il8 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

felt aggrieved, as I had done nothing to 
warrant the attack. I told him this and 
in a high-handed manner demanded an 
apology before I would go on the stage 
again. This was conceded and the play 
proceeded. Mr. Wallack never forgot the 
incident, and at the end of the engage- 
ment, which was for six weeks, he re- 
marked to Fawcett Rowe, " There's that 
fellow Morris, just the man I wanted, but 
by Gad, sir ! you can't touch him with a 
forty-foot pole ! " 

As a rule, Mr. Wallack was kindness 
and consideration itself to everybody. On 
this occasion, however, something or other 
had disturbed the serenity of his mood 
and the stand I took in the matter was an 
extreme one, and logically enough it was 
the most disastrous in its effects, as will 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. II9 

appear. Two or three short engagements 
filled in a few weeks — what is termed 
" jobbing" in the profession — which were 
neither satisfactory nor remunerative. 
Then we drifted over to Jersey City under 
the management of Mr. Gouge, and vainly 
struggled to establish a stock company 
there. The season ended in a short time 
with salaries unpaid and the outlook most 
unpromising. Our next move brought 
us West to Louisville and vicinity, where 
for four weeks we appeared in Col. Nu- 
nez's play, entitled "Saints and Sinners," 
and then we very gladly accepted an invi- 
tation to spend the summer with my wife's 
relatives. 

Another season opened with no better 
luck. The engagement was unsuccess- 
ful, and I must acknowledge my despond- 



120 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

ency at the time, in spite of my wife's en- 
couragement and sanguine views. An 
offer of an engagement which took us to 
the West Indies was finally made. We 
were both engaged and we started off in 
high spirits, and more hopeful than our 
friends were when they heard with dismay 
of our departure. I will not attempt a 
description of our passage. In the com- 
fortable steamer of the Atlas line we had 
the usual blow off Cape Halteras and the 
gradual gliding into perfect weather. 
Spice-laden zephyrs fanned our progress 
as we approached Crooked Island, and 
the rest of our journey was an elvsian 
dream. 

We landed at Kingston, Jamaica, De- 
cember 24th. Every one there predicted 
absolute failure, citing any number of in- 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 121 

cidents to prove the impossibility of suc- 
cess. We knew our manager's capital 
consisted of scenery only and that his cash 
had been expended in the transportation 
of his company. But we were not dis- 
mayed. My wife thought a trip to the 
lovely island worth any financial incon- 
venience we might be subjected to, and I 
felt hopeful from the fact that my name 
was well known in Jamaica, where my 
father was one of the oldest and best 
known traders, and where he owned prop- 
erty on the north side of the island. That 
a certain amount of curiosity would be 
evoked on account of my connections I 
was quite certain. Our engagement was 
for two weeks only and we gave but four 
performances a week. 

The opening performance was a tri- 



122 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

umph and our success was instantly as- 
sured. We remained eight weeks and 
appeared before crowded houses in a re- 
pertoire of not less than thirty pieces. 
We gave "Pinafore" with pretty Annie 
Russel as Josephine, Tommy Russell as 
the Midshipmite, Jack Stewart as Dick 
Deadeye (one of the best performances of 
the part ever given), J. H. Gilmour.as the 
Bosun, myself as Sir Joseph Porter, 
K. C. B. This performance had to be 
repeated again and again. We were en- 
tertained by officers on sea and officers on 
land and were socially feted and petted 
everywhere. Our reception called to mind 
my former Montreal experiences. 

In spite of the incessant work the 
change of programme entailed, our stay 
was full of enjoyment and crowded with 



FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. lt$ 

pleasure. Our next point was Barbadoes, 
one of the Windward Islands. The Royal 
mail steamer Medway was the one selected 
for the voyage. She was a magnificent 
boat, perfectly officered and manned. A 
Siamese prince, a cousin of King Thee- 
baw, was one of a number of distinguished 
passengers. He was a midshipman in the 
British navy and was going to England on 
leave of absence. He was a mild-man- 
nered person with a perfect mania for 
waltzing. We touched at San Domingo, 
on our way, and were amused at the rep- 
resentatives of the island, who raced out 
in huge scows to our steamer lying in the 
offing. We were at least a mile from the 
island and the frantic efforts of the native 
boatmen to reach us were indeed amus- 
ing. Their jargon when they did arrive 



124 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

consisted of incomprehensible French. It 
was a babel, and free fights galore were 
features of the demonstration. Order was 
restored only by deluging them all with 
water from the ship's hose, one of the 
sailors remarking : " It's the only way ye 
can manage them bloomin' duffers." 

Then Barbadoes ! a densely populated, 
glaring place with roads that scintillate 
and glitter in their whiteness ; so shiny 
that at noontime they are painful to gaze 
upon. The sugar cane fields afford a 
grateful contrast, of course, but oh ! how 
the sun beats down and how the intensity 
of the glare grows upon you. 

And the "true Barbadian born" col- 
ored gentleman — what an aggressive, rabid 
creature he is ! And how generally un- 
comfortable and miserable you feel, and 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. I 25 

what a wretched hotel, within a few yards 
of the public slaughter house ! How ruth- 
lessly interrupted is your restless sleep, and 
how the certainty of some portion of one of 
the wretched animals finding its way to 
your breakfast table haunts you until the 
very thoughts of pig make you groan! Of 
course, one cannot forget the superb view 
from Hackleton's Cliff or the sea bathing 
at Hastings. The people were most kind 
and hospitable and our business was excel- 
lent. We were not sorry, however, to 
leave for Demerara, South America. 

Georgetown, the capital, was a surprise 
to us, lying almost below the level of the 
sea. It had been treated by its former 
possessors, the Dutch, very much after the 
method of their native Holland. Diked 
in every direction, it boasted a modern 



126 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

market erected by an American, and it 
had street cars, gas and a wonderful trop- 
ical garden. Here success crowned our 
efforts, business being extremely good. 
Reports of yellow fever outbreaks in Trin- 
idad, a contiguous island, and one or two 
sporadic cases in Demerara itself, we re- 
garded in the light of warning. We had 
already reached the month of May, had 
worked unflaggingly for six months in the 
tropics and longed to get home again. 

For some reason or other our anxiety 
was not shared by the management, so we 
declined to continue and demanded a set- 
tlement. This was refused and we placed 
our affairs in the hands of the principal 
lawyer of Demerara. He told us the law 
of debit and credit was very concise and 
he would easily obtain our just due. The 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 127 

expense of the journey home by steamer 
was very considerable, so I determined 
upon a sailing vessel, a Nova Scotian 
by the way, a schooner of 90 tons reg- 
ister. She looked the merest mite for 
such a voyage. The captain's wife was 
with him and this satisfied my own wife. 
We expected to make the run in twelve to 
fourteen days. We started and in a short 
time were becalmed in the muddy waters 
of the bay. There we wallowed and 
washed about for twenty- four hours and 
then proceeded on our course. A smart 
breeze drove us past Barbadoes. The last 
glimpse of that island, with gorgeous trop- 
ical sun setting behind it, vanished from 
our view in golden shimmer. 

In a few hours our breeze again deserted 
us and for twelve long days and longer 



128 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

nights we hardly stirred. A breathless, 
dazzling, awful monotony it was, unbroken 
by any event worth recording beyond the 
capture of a huge shark, the daily report 
that the water supply was getting short 
and the alarming diminution of the totally 
inadequate supply of provisions. Our 
captain, who had been jollity and good 
humor itself, and who would in the dog 
watch enliven the situation with his violin, 
became by turns taciturn and morose and 
then wildly excited. The demon of dis- 
cord seemed to possess the crew and one 
or two fearful fights ensued. Our situa- 
tion was really alarming, for we were 
short-handed. 

And still we stirred not, but like a log 
our vessel lay cracking and blistering under 
the vertical rays of the fiercest sun. Then 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. I 29 

all at once, as if maddened by an angry 
sleep, a southwest gale sprung up and 
swooped down upon us, lashing itself 
into a wild, white scudding fury, goading 
our frail vessel to the utmost, until tremb- 
ling, groaning, staggering she flew before 
its wrath, escaping for a moment only to 
be mocked again by fiercer onslaught. 

The captain in drunken delirium 
crowded on every stitch of canvas until 
it seemed as if we must founder. On we 
raced for days in fog and mist and fearful 
tempest, and at last made out Cape Sable 
light, and rushed into the Bay of Fundy, 
where we landed on the Nova Scotian 
coast. After twenty-eight days of such 
terrible experience we were indeed thank- 
ful to escape with our lives. We had be- 
come accustomed to surprises, but a new 



130 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

one yet awaited us, for when we had 
reached New York in safety our delight to 
be back again was heightened by finding a 
letter from the lawyer in Demerara enclos- 
ing a draft for the balance due us for serv- 
ices while there. 

IX. ' 

As time rolled on the battle became 
fiercer, the struggle more arduous, the 
vein of comedy that seemed to permeate 
my bachelor experience disappeared, and 
the responsibilities at times weighed 
heavily. I will endeavor to condense my 
recital of the next few seasons and briefly 
state that after our return from the West 
Indies I was engaged by Mr. Samuel Col- 
ville in the original production of 
''Michael StrogorT" at Booth's Theater, 







THE ENGLISH CORRESPONDENT. 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 131 

New York. The piece was splendidly 
mounted, with Frank Bangs in the title 
role and Newton Gotthold as Ogareff. 

I was engaged for the English corre- 
spondent and felt dreadfully nervous about 
the part, as changes were frequently made 
as the rehearsals progressed, and I felt 
that my head might be chopped off at any 
moment. The result of the first night's 
performance did not tend to allay my anx- 
iety, as Mr. Colville, watching the pro- 
gress of the piece from the wings, would 
occasionally snort and stamp and start off 
on a short, rapid trot, ominously swinging 
his coat-tails behind him. This was al- 
ways a sign of displeasure in his case, and 
at last I heard him say in the most em- 
phatic manner to the unfortunate per- 
former who played the opposite part to 



I32 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

me : ' ' Not a d d bit like it, my very 

dear sir, not a d d bit like it 1" W. J. 

Ferguson was immediately summoned, 
and we got on swimmingly thereafter. 

After the first run of the piece we were 
re-engaged by that prince of managers, J. 
H. Haverly, who was then at his zenith. 
He was a kindly, generous-hearted and 
unobtrusive little man, and wonderfully 
successful at the time. Then came the 
production of the comedy of " Mother-in- 
Law " at the Park Theater, which was 
quite successful. We had John Dillon 
and that very clever actress, Mrs. Jane 
Germon, and Ed Holland, too, if I re- 
member rightly, in the cast. I played the 
part of a theatrical manager of some sort or 
another, and made, according to the crit- 
ics, quite a little hit. Mr. Samuel Colville 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 1 33 

then engaged me for his piece, "Taken 
from Life." 

Mr. Beveridge was brought over from 
London to produce it and play one of the 
leading parls. Gerald Eyre played the 
other. The latter died afterwards in Aus- 
tralia. We opened in Chicago at Mc- 
Vickar's Theater. At rehearsal Mr. Bev- 
eridge, an excitable person, berated and 
bully-ragged the supers, who with one 
accord lifted up their voices in blasphe- 
mous protest and walked out of the theater, 
leaving behind them a much surprised and 
crestfallen stage director. 

Managerial schemes now began to come 
under my notice. Enterprises that could 
not help paying handsomely were de- 
scribed to me. Problems were worked 
out on paper into dead certainties. It 



134 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

seemed like singular short-sightedness on 
my wife's part that she should hesitate for 
a second. Alas ! woman's excessive cau- 
tion often frustrates man's grandest oppor- 
tunities. Verily, nothing venture nothing 
have. Good heavens ! golden fruit within 
our reach, only waiting to be plucked ! 
The prospect was too alluring to be re- 
jected, so we organized and went forth to 
Newfoundland, of all the ends of the 
earth the most inaccessible at that time of 
year, and the bleakest, dreariest, saddest, 
sorriest hole conceivable. 

We appeared and disappeared and the 
place thereof knew us no more. We moved 
in a mysterious way and finally reached 
New York again, dazed and perplexed. 
I roamed about waiting for the sapient re- 
mark, " I told you so," as the final drop 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. I35 

in my cup of disappointment and chagrin. 
It never came, however, but in its stead a 
flood of practical suggestions (for which 
Mrs. Felix in our family circle is famous), 
whereby, by still more careful economies, 
our debt of some $300 could be expunged. 
Now came Harry Pitt's offer of an en- 
gagement at the old Bijou Theater on 
Broadway. We opened in "Caste," with 
Selina Dolaro as Polly Eccles, Fanny Ad- 
dison as Esther, Eben Plympton as D'Al- 
roy, Pitt as Hawtree, and old Mr. William 
Davidge as Eccles. I was Sam Gerridge. 
The production made quite a little stir in 
New York and we seemed to be success- 
ful. Then followed the "Two Roses," 
and several of Alberry's pieces. Our 
success was ephemeral, however, for 
the season ended after a visit to Bos- 



I36 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

ton with salaries in arrears and pockets 
empty. 

A friendly slap on the back and a cordial 
"Howdy" broke the monotony of my 
trudge on Broadway one day. I turned, 
and the grasp of friendship that greeted 
me, and the affectionate inquiries that 
rained upon me, were quite cheering. It 
was Mr. Ed Rice, of "Evangeline" 
fame, who was so solicitous. He had 
been looking everywhere for me. I was 
the one being on earth, it seemed, with 
whom it was absolutely necessary for him 
to come in contact. 

" It's all right my boy; comic opera is 
your sphere. There's where you're a dead 
sure winner," he exclaimed. 

" But the voice — I don't sing !" 

11 Sing !" he replied, " I don't want you 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. I37 

to sing. I wouldn't have you sing. 
Come right along and sign with me ; I've 
got your contract in my pocket." 

Taking out numerous documents, he 
selected one, and we adjourned to an ad- 
jacent cafe. "What are you going to 
have, old man ? " he asked. He was 
always the soul of hospitality. And thus, 
after a careful filling in of documents, 
the ceremony ended in an attachment 
of signatures, and my fate was sealed. 

We were to open in Philadelphia at the 
Arch Street Opera House, so we bundled 
ourselves over there, baby daughter and 
all, and found quarters. We hired a 
piano and began our operatic career. 
Vocal culture was the first step on the 
ladder of fame. So I took singing les- 
sons. The tianquility of home life fled, 



I38 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

an unmusical nightmare followed. Fever- 
ish anxiety possessed us. Even our little 
daughter's sympathy was evoked. My 
violent efforts distressed her. She fre- 
quently remarked : "Poor little papa has 
to sing so hard." To intensify the situ- 
ation, a painful uncertainty about salary 
forced itself upon us. From the begin- 
ning of the enterprise we received small 
instalments instead of the weekly sum 
agreed upon. It was discouraging, but 
there was no alternative. Hope sustained 
us, and enthusiasm did not desert us, and 
Ed Rice was such an ingenuous, plaus- 
ible debtor, so fertile in promises that 
your ire was soothed, your anxiety al- 
layed, and before an interview with him 
ended, your magnanimity and admiration 
were aroused in his behalf. 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 1 39 

We produced, after several other efforts, 
"Lieutenant Helene," a comic opera, in 
which I played a burgomaster. Henry 
Dixey was my secretary and Hubert 
Wilke made his first appearance in an 
English-speaking role in this same piece. 
I mention the fact simply to recall 
Henry Dixey's wonderful imitation of 
Irving, which he first attempted in this 
production. My comic operatic experi- 
ence came abruptly to a most unsatisfac- 
tory end, with the enterprising manager 
very considerably in our debt. His as- 
surances of speedy settlement were never 
fulfilled, although our frequent applica- 
tion kept the matter constantly before 
him. My wife undertook the doubtful 
task of making a collection, and I must 
own that she invariably received the 



140 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

politest attention and warmest welcome. 
But that was all she did receive. The 
nearest approach to a settlement was an 
expression of regret that she had not 
arrived a little sooner, as she might have 
accepted a turkey, which he had received 
from a friend in Boston, and had gener- 
ously bestowed upon a more fortunate 
creditor. That turkey, as he sententiously 
remarked, would have been something on 
account, anyhow ! 

The idea finally occurred to us that we 
could better stand the slings and arrows of 
outrageous fortune in a very modest 
establishment of our own. We, therefore, 
discovered a little flat and furnished it in 
the simplest manner, our sitting-room 
having to remain in a state of nature, so 
to speak, as our funds would not admit 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 141 

of the luxury of furniture of so elaborate 
description as is demanded by sitting- 
rooms. Snugly installed in our own home 
we could work out our salvation and live 
according to our slender and uncertain 
means, we said. The Puritan simplicity 
of our surroundings did not lessen our 
contentment nor dampen our enjoyment. 
A few little plants, a hyacinth or two, a 
little caged songster and a sweet little 
baby voice gladdened our home and 
lightened our cares. Thus encouraged, 
blessed hope grew strong again. 

Our sitting-room, with its open grate, 
we converted into a grand playroom. The 
bare floors were just the things for our 
romps and the huge fire sparkled and 
crackled and roared at our games. It 
was almost a disappointment when our 



142 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

means enabled us to furnish the sitting- 
room, and most unexpectedly the oppor- 
tunity came about for us to do so. A 
lady called upon us with a letter of intro- 
duction from one of my artist friends and 
proceeded to explain that she was desirous 
of appearing in the guise of a dramatic 
author. She knew nothing of the require- 
ments of that most difficult branch of 
literature. She had an idea, she thought, 
which was susceptible of dramatic treat- 
ment. She produced a very slim scenario 
and asked me to undertake the matter for 
her. The comedy must be in four acts, 
she said, and ready for her by Thursday. 
It was Monday when she presented her- 
self, and if she approved of my work she 
promised to pay me a snug sum. Her 
offer opened up to view a new El Dorado. 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 143 

The amount offered seemed a small 
fortune. My name was not to appear in 
the transaction at all, but from one point 
of view, at least, this was an evident ad- 
vantage, as I could not hope for fame 
from any such forced labor. After some 
argument an extension of time was granted, 
and I promised completion of the woik 
by Saturday morning. That gave me 
four days and nights for the effort. The 
playroom became my workroom. I rolled 
off sheet after sheet of arrant nonsense, 
my wife copying away for dear life. 
The pressure was tremendous, and we sat 
up all night. Meals were forgotten and 
sleep defied until the poor brain rebelled. 
Something had to be done. Tennyson 
derived inspiration from gin and water, 
we said, and so I tried gin and milk, 



144 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

This was a rude shock to my helpmate's 
ideas on the subject of temperance and 
moderation. But I carried out my plan, 
arguing that my stimulant was a modifica- 
tion of the poet laureate's. The nourish- 
ment derived from the milk, and the 
brain stimulant yielded by the juniper 
juice, was all that I required, and so at 
regular intervals, homoeopathic doses of 
the beverage were supplied, and the four 
acts were at last completed. 

Gaunt and weary and worn, we re- 
ceived the lady on Saturday morning and 
went through the ordeal of reading that 
which had been so hastily prepared. To 
our indescribable delight she pronounced 
herself charmed with the piece, and gen- 
erously paid into our itching palms the 
amount agreed upon. She immediately 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 145 

left for Washington, and we saw her no 
more. What the fate of the piece was 
I never knew. I am only certain of one 
thing, and that is that it was never pro- 
duced. 

X. 

Mr. Samuel Colville had, at consider- 
able expense, procured the rights of pro- 
duction of the then reigning Parisian suc- 
cess, the "Pavements of Paris." D'Ennery, 
that master of melodrama, was one of the 
authors of the piece ; it was adapted by 
Cauzeran and produced in splendid shape 
at Niblo's I was one of what the play 
bills termed "a carefully selected cast," 
and we had a run of six weeks there to 
good business. The expenses were heavy, 
however, and the piece was adjudged un- 



146 felix morris's Reminiscences. 

profitable for the road, and was with- 
drawn on that account. I was seized 
with the idea that there was material in 
the piece, and that it could be worked 
into a great popular success. The heavy 
scenery would have to be simplified, the 
plot condensed, etc. ; and I mentioned my 
convictions to my wife. 

My excuse for the introduction of this 
subject at the beginning of this chapter is to 
record a fact which we deemed to be most 
important at the time, and that is that we 
made our first bank deposit during the run 
of the "Pavements of Paris," now some 
eight years ago. Mr. Colville gave me a let- 
ter of introduction to his bankers, and with 
a kindly hand-shake said : "I don't know 
any one I am more delighted to introduce 
or to indorse." The opening of our bank 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 147 

account was brought about by the most 
careful management, of course, and by a 
systematic saving and curtailing — a con- 
stant watchfulness of corners. It meant 
self-denial in many ways, but we were 
convinced from actual experience that Mr. 
Micawber's advice as to the expenditure 
of an annual income was absolutely cor- 
rect, and the only way to insure happiness 
or success was by living a little within 
one's income. We have continued our 
plans with satisfactory results, and "the 
measure of meal " has never become ex- 
hausted, and the " cruse of oil " has not 
run dry. 

As this is the last opportunity I may 
have of mentioning Mr. Samuel Colville's 
name, it is my duty to record my obliga- 
tions to him. I liked him very much. The 



148 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES.. 

feeling was mutual. He always thought 
of me in any of his many productions. 
His word was his bond. His interest in 
me was most kindly, and many is the loan 
he has obliged me with to tide over some 
unexpected difficulty. His advice was 
always sound and his business ideas were 
excellent. I was greatly indebted to him, 
and we venerate his memory. 

I was engaged to create a part in Bart- 
ley Campbell's new piece entitled /'Sepa- 
ration." The offer was made in glowing 
terms and was considered at the time quite 
a recognition for me, as the rest of the cast, 
was composed of the stock of the Union 
Square Theater. It was an excellent com- 
pany, too, with Charles Coghlan in the 
lead, Mr. Parselle in the old men parts 
(and how admirable he was)! Mr. Stod- 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. I49 

dard played eccentrics in a manner at 
once unctuous, quaint, artistic and mag- 
netic. And what a simple, kindly soul he 
is! I never heard him speak of himself 
on any occasion. Joseph Whiting was 
also in the cast, also Eleanor Carey, Maud 
Harrison, Effie Ellsler, Mrs. Phillips. 
Altogether the company was excellent and 
the production a great success. Bartley 
Campbell's work was lauded by press and 
public, and the Union Square Theater 
night after night was filled to overflowing. 
The one hundredth performance of the 
piece was celebrated with a supper in Del- 
monico's best style. This was tendered to 
the company by Bartley Campbell. Joseph 
Howard, Jr., Steele Mackaye and several 
other distinguished guests attended, and 
the evening was in every]way a memor- 



150 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

able one. Mr. Campbell had devised a 
number of surprises for the ladies, one of 
which was a canary bird cunningly hidden 
in what appeared to be a mould of Char- 
lotte Russe. Each lady was served in 
this way. The floral decorations were 
beautiful, too, and the speeches were 
worth listening to. There is no happier 
after-dinner speaker than Steele Mackaye, 
and no one can be more entertaining 
than Mr. Howard. The eulogies be- 
stowed upon Bartley Campbell touched 
him to the heart, and it was with difficulty 
that he concluded his remarks with any- 
thing like coherency. The disease which 
at last proved fatal was already making 
inroads upon him, and the haziness of 
infancy was returning. He was very sad. 
His fate was really terrible. His was a 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. I 5 1 

bound from penury to comparative afflu- 
ence. He was a great worker, and suc- 
cess seemed ever at his elbow. Fortune 
toyed with him for awhile and then re- 
morselessly, as she sometimes does, flung 
him over, bereft of everything. Death 
was his best friend. 

The "Pavements of Paris" had again 
tempted fortune under the capable man- 
agement of Mr. John Rickaby, but with 
no better results, when it occurred to my 
wife to lay my proposition before Messrs. 
Colville and Rickaby. They were averse 
to any further outlay. Mr. Colville had 
already sunk eighteen thousand dollars in 
the piece, and it was hopeless. "But," 
urged my wife, " my husband will do the 
work on approval." And so permission 
was eventually granted, and I set to work. 



152 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

I reconstructed the piece, wrote in one 
catchy, clap-trappy act, founded on an 
act in the "Two Orphans," wrote up the 
comedy scenes, making them part and 
parcel of the main plot, simplified the 
heavy scenery, opened the piece with a 
strong prologue and put in a hissing, 
whistling locomotive steaming on the stage 
in the last act as a grand and novel 
feature of the nineteenth century. My re- 
vised version was received with acclaim. 
An excellent, hard-working, experienced 
company was engaged, and after much 
careful preparation we started for Chicago 
one sweltering August day. 

McVickar's Theater was the scene of 
our triumph, for so it proved. The melo- 
drama caught the fancy of the public. 
Our original time was extended from two 



FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 1 53 

weeks to four, and our business was 
extraordinary in spite of hot weather. The 
papers considered the work far ahead of 
the ordinary melodrama. There were 
some picturesque views and tableaux of 
the rag-picker's side of Parisian life, with 
a quaint wedding procession, winding up 
with a wild bacchanal. The curtain used 
to go up and down five and six times on 
one particular stage picture. The debt, 
on account of the original production, was 
soon wiped out, and there was nothing on 
the road that season as successful as the 
" Pavements of Paris. " 

In all my experience I never remember 
any company that worked so admirably 
together as this one of ours. John Rick- 
aby had used great judgment in his selec- 
tions. Each actor was physically qualified 



154 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

for his part, and was at the same time 
thoroughly experienced. Harold Fosberg, 
for instance, was a seedy representative of 
disgraced nobility, with the manners of a 
courtier and the principles of a pickpocket. 
In this grimly humorous style of part he 
was unequaled. I recall a performance 
of Robert Macaire, by Fosberg, years ago 
in Albany, which I have never seen 
equaled. He had the height of the great 
Frederic Lemaitre (the original Robert 
Macaire) and much of the eccentric bra- 
vado characteristic of that great actor ; also 
broad flashes of intensity and a strong vein 
of irresistible humor. 

So pleased was Mr. John Rickaby with 
general results that he came to me towards 
the end of the season with a proposition 
to adapt, or rather dramatize "Young Mrs. 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. I 55 

Geoffrey, " by the Duchess, for Miss Helen 
Dauvray. He was to be that lady's man- 
ager the following season, and the piece 
had to be ready in four weeks. I read 
the novel, at once realized the stupendous 
difficulties in the way of making a play 
out of such a mass of rubbish, and felt 
inclined not to entertain the proposition, 
but finally yielded and made the attempt. 
The silly, impossible plot was of very little 
assistance to me. I was exhausted, more- 
over, the work of the season having been 
arduous. I had played two parts at every 
performance, both very distinct and very 
laborious, and I felt, with such material, 
my labor in Miss Dauvray's behalf would 
be in vain. I struggled on, however, and 
handed in Act I, which was deemed per- 
fectly satisfactory. Each succeeding week 



I56 FELIX* MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

found an act complete and accepted, and 
in the stipulated time the play was finished 
and payments were made according to 
agreement. 

I record herewith my admiration of and 
gratitude to John Rickaby, who was a 
wonderfully excellent business man, a 
steadfast friend and the first of American 
managers, perhaps, to pick me especially 
out of the rut and place me on some dis- 
tinct eminence. His faith and absolute 
confidence in me were unbounded, and 
when he died we lost a true friend, indeed. 
The reason of the whole inexplicable 
hurry afterwards transpired. Miss Dau- 
vray had determined to make her re-appear- 
ance by a certain date, and, having taken 
a fancy to the character of Young Mrs. 
Goeffrey, she seemed to think any medium 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. I 57 

would do for her introduction to a New 
York public. That object once attained, 
the rest, she believed, would be plain 
sailing. There was no lack of funds. 
The Star Theater was engaged, and every- 
thing in the way of scenery and upholstery 
that could be asked for to ensure success 
was supplied. An excellent company 
was engaged, and the piece entitled 
1 ' Mona " was produced. It was a failure. 
It ran for three weeks, but was then with- 
drawn. It was the means, however, of 
placing E. H. Sothern in a more prom- 
inent position before the public than he 
had hitherto occupied. He played an 
eccentric part in " Mona," and made a hit 
which led to his re-engagement by Miss 
Dauvray in subsequent productions, and 
brought him eventually to the notice of 



I58 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

the Frohmans, and thus indirectly the 
general public have gained by my failure 
in Mr. Sothem's well-merited success and 
universal popularity as the portrayer of the 
Burglar, Lord Chumley, Allan Rollitt, 
etc., etc. The result of my attempt at 
adaptation, although expected, was a 
severe blow to my pride. A thousand 
dollars had been paid for my work without 
a grumble, a fact that intensified my de- 
spair. Overwork did not account for the 
failure, and an increased bank account 
would not bring sleep to my weary brain. 
Mrs. Felix suggested a trip to England, 
and her proposition was eagerly enter- 
tained. Fourteen years had elapsed since 
I left my native land. The change would 
be beneficial, I told myself, and I would 
return within a month restored in health, 















rt¥fttr. ; 









THE SCOTCH PROFESSOR. 



Felix morris's reminiscences. 159 



and ready to renew the struggle. The 
next chapter will reveal how I went, what 
I did and the length of time that did elapse 
before I returned to America. 

xi. 

I landed in England after an absence of 
fourteen years, and found myself almost a 
stranger there, although relatives were 
alive and former friends still in existence. 
We looked so different to each other — so 
shop-worn and battered by the hand of 
time — we had diverged so completely in 
our careers that we seemed to have little 
or nothing in common, and the feeling of 
disappointment that came over me was no 
doubt shared by them. I had been an un- 
known quantity for so many years that, 
although my welcome was a kindly one, 



160 felix morris's reminiscences. 

I. felt it was extended to me more from a 
sense of duty than from the old-time love 
and family feeling. 

I had been irregular in my correspond- 
ence, as one is apt to be when the 
struggle is unremitting and frequently 
overwhelming. It was my own fault, but 
I could not help realizing that "the place 
thereof knew me no more," and I deter- 
mined at once to return to my family in 
America. I called in at Charing Cross, 
on my way to the steamship office, for my 
letters, and found one from an old Mon- 
treal friend, asking me to meet him that 
day at the Conservative Club. I kept the 
appointment, and was amazed to find that 
he wanted me to play in a piece to be pro- 
duced in two weeks from that date at the 
Strand Theater. It was a localized ver- 



FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. l6l 

sion of "Ultimo" or "The Big Bonanza," 
as it was called in America. The title 
given to it in London was ' ' On 'Change. " 
I was to play the part of the Professor, 
and to make it more realistic I was to use 
the Scotch dialect. My friend felt certain 
the Scotch impersonation would attract 
more attention, as nothing of the kind had 
been attempted in London for years. I 
agreed to everything, as it was for a 
matinee performance only, and my per- 
formance of the part was merely to oblige 
my friend, who appeared to have set his 
heart upon the production. The part was 
placed in my hands. I re-wrote it in the 
Scotch dialect, cabled my wife and 
daughter to start immediately for London, 
and set about a most careful preparation 
of the part. I attended the rehearsals and 



1 62 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

felt very shy and uncomfortable, although 
I received the kindest consideration from 
the company. Mr. William Farren (a 
grand old actor, unapproachable to-day 
in his line) played the opposite part to 
me. Monsieur Marius was our stage 
manager; and as our opening date came 
near, I could see that my efforts at re- 
hearsals had made no particular impres- 
sion on M. Marius or any other of those 
interested in the production. 

I confess that I held myself well in 
hand, doing everything that was neces- 
sary, but repressing the one touch of 
nature and omitting the minute details. 
These finishing touches I most carefully 
worked over in private. In the meantime 
my wife and daughter had arrived, and we 
were glad to be together again. The mati- 



FELIX MORRISS REMINISCENCES. 1 63 

nee performance of ' ' On 'Change " was 
to take place on Tuesday, and we made 
arrangements to start for New York by the 
White Star Line the following Thursday. 
Not a word had been said about me in 
any of the preliminary press notices. My 
name appeared in the cast as if I had been 
in the habit of making a nightly appear- 
ance before the great London public for 
years past, and on account of that nothing 
was expected of me. I was a simple 
nonentity, and my wife and I both said 
that if the whole thing was a failure no 
harm could come of it, and that we could, 
at any rate, say we made ''one consecu- 
tive appearance" in the great English 
metropolis. 

We were relegated to a cubby- hole of a 
dressing-room near the flies, on the event- 



1 64 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

ful Tuesday afternoon, and I must con- 
fess to a very considerable degree of trep- 
idation and nervousness as my make-up 
progressed. We comforted ourselves with 
the idea that the ordeal would soon be 
over, and thus fortified I faced, for the 
first time in my life, a London public. 
The house was crowded, and the audience 
was silent and most attentive. I was 
listened to for a short time very quietly. 
Suddenly something seemed to strike the 
audience as being mirth-provoking and 
from that moment peal after peal of 
laughter greeted the sayings and doings of 
the Scotch Professor. His national char- 
acteristics were recognized; his tes.tiness, 
his frugality, his egotism — every little point 
was taken up and endorsed in a manner 
that was almost bewildering to me. 



FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 1 65 

Between the acts my wife and I com- 
pared notes. I thought the piece was a 
success, but she felt uncertain. A Lon- 
don audience was more demonstrative 
than ours, she argued, and so we doubted 
and wavered in our opinion until the 
final curtain dropped. In the meantime, 
and unknown to us, a popular manager 
had already negotiated for the production of 
"On 'Change" for a run. As my wife and 
I quietly prepared to leave the theater, we 
were set upon by a small mob of congrat- 
ulators. We felt very much embarrassed, 
and thought such enthusiasm unwarranted. 

The morrow set our minds at rest, how- 
ever. Every newspaper in London con- 
tained detailed notices of the piece. It 
was pronounced the hit of the season; the 
great dailies, The Times, Standard, Daily 



1 66 felix morris's reminiscences. 

Telegraph, Daily News and Morning 
Chronicle were full of the most elaborate 
and carefully written criticisms. 

In all my career I had never evoked half 
the eulogies lavished on me by the London 
press. Their recognition was unstinted 
and unanimous. They placed me unhesi- 
tatingly on a par with their best character 
actors. From absolute obscurity, at least 
so far as London was concerned, I leapt 
into the sunshine of reputation. Such an 
achievement, the press declared, was 
almost without a parallel. Even Punch's 
commendation was absolute ; its article 
ending with the following : "We wonder 
if the Scotch Professor will have shrewd- 
ness enough to make the same use of 
the hit he has made in "On 'Change" 
that Mr. Sothern did in "Lord Dun- 



FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 1 67 

dreary " and Mr. Jefferson in ' ' Rip Van 
Winkle." 

I trust I may not be misunderstood in 
my statements. My motive is not one of 
self-laudation or exaggeration. I state the 
incidents and facts as they occurred, and 
my personal friends insist that it is my 
duty to publish them, as they have never 
in any way been referred to since my re- 
turn to America. It was indeed the tide 
in affairs which, if taken at the flood, would 
have led to fortune, but from untoward cir- 
cumstances we were unable to avail our- 
selves of the golden opportunity. It was 
conceded that the Scotch Professor (nobody 
ever spoke of me in the matter — it was 
always the Scotch Professor) was indispen- 
sible to the production of "On'Change," 
and I referred the applicants for my services 



1 68 FELIX morris's reminiscences. 

to Mrs. Felix as my business manager. It 
is needless to say she made most satis- 
factory terms with them and I was engaged 
for the run of the piece. 

In commenting upon my singular good 
fortune, Mr. Harrison Grey Fiske, of the 
New Yoik Mirror, said: "Felix Morris 
has done in London, in one afternoon, 
more than he has been able to accomplish 
in fourteen years of conscientious and un- 
tiring effort in America." It did appear 
so at the time, perhaps, but on reflection 
it will be seen how widely different is the 
situation between the London stage and 
that of America. London is the artistic 
and authoritative focus of the land. The 
greater enthusiasm of the London public 
is accounted for by greater familiarity in 
my case with the character portrayed, The 



FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 169 

Scotch Professor could never have created 
the impression here that he did there, be- 
cause he would be an unfamiliar type here. 
Again, we have several centers or foci. The 
endorsement of one is not always followed 
by the approval of the others. A New 
York success often fails to win favor in 
Boston or Philadelphia or Chicago. 

The hits I had made in America from 
time to time were invariably followed by 
the disappearances incident to the piece 
being taken en iour after the run in New 
York. It is only by a constant and steady 
appearance before the public that any 
serious and lasting impression can be 
made. 

We produced "On 'Change" at Toole's 
Theater in August, and it ran at various 
theaters in London uninterruptedly until 



170 feLix morris's reminiscences. 

the end of the following May. We played 
it, counting matinees in London, at the 
Crystal Palace and at Brighton, three hun- 
dred and sixty consecutive times, and Mr. 
Hawtree, of the Globe Theater, said to 
me that if he had owned the piece he 
would have gotten three years out of it. 
Dissentions between the partners, how- 
ever, brought things to a climax, and this 
valuable theatrical property was prema- 
turely withdrawn, although still playing to 
excellent business. In the meantime, we 
were most comfortably ensconced in a de- 
lightful little villa in St. John's Wood. 
We made some very pleasant acquaintances 
among our artist neighbors. We had 
several friends from America to spend the 
summer with us, and the arrival of a little 
English daughter enlarged our family 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 17 I 

circle and added to our happiness and 
general prosperity. 

After playing the Scotch Professor for 
some fifty performances, it was rumored 
about that I was a Scotchman and could 
play nothing but that style of part, so I 
produced, as a part of the same bill, the 
farce, "Turn Him Out," in which I played 
the part of a Cockney costermonger. The 
public was delighted and the press was 
most generous in its approval. After that, 
anything I attempted received the kindest 
consideration. During the run of "On 
'Change " I was surprised one night by a 
knock at my dressing-room door. I 
opened it and found a pleasant-faced little 
man standing there. I asked him in. He 
said, warmly, shaking my hand at the 
time: "I won't interrupt you, and I want 



172 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

to see your next act, but I felt I must 
come and congratulate you on your splen- 
did work. My name is John Hare; good- 
by, good-by ; come and see me ! " A 
kinder tribute was never offered by one 
actor to another. Here was an artist in 
my own particular line of business, a 
great popular favorite and successful man- 
ager, who went out of his way to con- 
gratulate and encourage me. I was in- 
deed touched by his kindness and shall 
always remember it. 

We had the most distinguished audi- 
ences. The Prince and Princess of Wales 
and other members of the royal family 
were present on various occasions, but in 
spite of all my success I was unhappy, 
for my health was wretched. I shunned 
society. I only popped my nose into the 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. I 73 

Savage Club once, and immediately with- 
drew it again, as there appeared to be a 
very animated discussion going on and 
clouds of tobacco smoke filled the air. 
The Green-room Club I visited twice. 
It was most cosy and pleasant, but I had 
no heart for such visits, which was, of 
course, unfortunate, for in England it is 
necessary to be seen and to meet people. 
They are enthusiastic and hospitable and 
they want to know what manner of man 
you are. If I had been in good health 
I would have taken a theater, and with 
some good play by a writer of acknowl- 
edged ability would have followed up the 
advantage I had secured from my triumph 
in "On 'Change. " This course being im- 
practicable, I went starring in the prov- 
inces : I visited those cities that had not 



] 74 FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. 

already been assailed by the country com- 
pany which had been playing the piece 
during the whole of the London run. 
Glasgow was one city that we played in, 
and Belfast another, and Dublin and 
Cork were also in the list. In Ireland 
it was decided that I should play Kerry as 
a first piece. Fortunately for me Mr. 
Boucicault had not played there for many 
years, and his great impersonation of 
Kerry was but dimly remembered. On 
that account mine found favor and was 
splendidly received. It was rather beard- 
ing the lion in his den, I thought, but the 
cordial sons of Erin took me to their 
hearts as one of their own countrymen, 
some of the newspapers going so far as to 
locate my birthplace in the County Cork. 
My manager would not hear of any cor- 



FELIX MORRIS S REMINISCENCES. I 75 

rection being made or of any information 
being supplied that would dispel the illu- 
sion that all the Morrises were of Irish 
origin. 

Of my experience since that memorable 
trip to Ireland, of my final appearance in 
England and of our return to America, 
much might be written that I have left 
unsaid. Whenever I have thought of just 
where to end these random recollections, 
it has occurred to me that the peculiarity 
about all reminiscences is that they resem- 
ble Mr. Tennyson's Brook ; and so, if I 
have happily escaped the charge thus far 
of running on forever, let me save my 
reputation by ending my story not very 
far from here. 

For the attention my reminiscences 
have received and for the many letters that 



176 FELIX MORRIS'S REMINISCENCES. 

have come to me from those whose sym- 
pathies are quickened by the trials and 
triumphs of a fellow creature, I am deeply 
grateful. If I have done anything in re- 
turn to interest those who have followed 
my unpretentious narrative, I shall feel, 
to paraphrase a somewhat overworked 
comparison, that though a man may relin- 
quish his lofty aspirations to excel in 
tragedy and consent to tread the more pro- 
saic walks of comedy, still, if by honestly 
telling the story of his life he instructs, 
entertains or encourages others, then may 
it be said of him that "he has not lived 
in vain." 




